AROUND TOWN, which, of course, is about the only place I've been in what is starting to feel like forever, the trees are in bloom, bringing color and light to a landscape that, in this spring of rain and virus, is tending toward the drab.
The dogs and I have been walking with our friend Liesl, and I am finding that when you walk every day, and it is spring, and there is no such thing as "not here," "here" becomes something to examine minutely. A little bit more of a bloom one day is exciting. The coming of the lilacs in my back yard vs. the already flowering lilac over by Dave's house raises questions. Does his lilac get more sun? Is it a different variety?
It is a daily delight to watch color come - and a little sadness to watch it go.
But I can paint the moment that the color is at its height - and in my paintings, it will stay that way forever. And there is some joy in that.
***
Gratitude
AT 4 THIS MORNING, I let the dogs out. The world was completely, totally, utterly, eerily silent, in a way it never is here in Wachapreague, where, if nothing else, the wind blows nearly all the time.
I let the dogs back in and we all went back to sleep, and when I got up again, the birds were singing, the wind was blowing a little, and the world, it turns out, had not died overnight. And I am grateful for that.
You?
***
For Today
Passing Love
Because you are to me a song
I must not sing you over-long.
Because you are to me a prayer
I cannot say you everywhere.
Because you are to me a rose -
You will not stay when summer goes.
- Langston Hughes
No comments:
Post a Comment