The earth is warm to
day; I can feel it in my bones
As I have the
front door open of our cottage and let the soft spring
like air
Breeze
through along the long leaf heart pine walls and
floor
to sweep out the cobwebs of
winter.
My old Airedale, who
is blind,
Pricks her nose up to the breeze from our porch
And drinks it in like
it was an elixir.
We head for the pond
together, and amble down the
Grass laden path like
peas and ham
Like a guide stick she
taps her head off my leg step
And heads off like a
brail master
Letting the smells and
sounds of her old haunt
Guide her through the
bee- loud glade.
The sun dazzles its
brilliance off the water and blinds us,
Inviting us into its distant marshy environs like
some radiant and holy crystal
Only nature
spirits see
A chorus of birds serenade the air, fish feed the surface ;
I disturb a dragon fly
as we free the canoe from its winter sleep
And glide its sleek silver body across
the rippled water with my age old pup-riding
helm;
We take out off across the open water, surprise a flock of ducks ,then portage
the inlet searching its grassy delta for signs of
spring.
For size our pond is not that big, about 3 acres in all, but
it allows you to
navigate bass beds
made of reed and stick and to get up close the footprints
of our animal friends
whose nocturnal haunts appear to be many . .
There are the deer of
course, big and small and there are a variety of beaver
Otter, Possum
and Raccoon tracks to all make
sense of.
Everyone seems to make it to the waters edge
Then veer off into a maze of tiny
crossroads that trample the grass and meander into the pine and sycamore
forest.to our back and sides ..
We are in the month of
Pieces now with a full sun Aries fastly approaching
This week a quarter moon passes the night in the shape of an upturned horn and by its weak and feeble light ,we
can imagine the many animals that
come and go to this secluded spot
We can see what they
eat has changed over from
Winter rye grass to one of new green shoots of
horsetail,
Bamboo, berries
and the aquatic salads of water lily and iris.
Oh ...The yard needs
raking I know, and the beds need to be cleaned out
This I haven't
forgotten.... but. I've got other plans.
Big plans, Great
plans, Plans that baffle the ordinary mind,
Plans that let go for just one day the
busyness of life's cycle
of cell phone and
schedule
Plans that compliment
the imagination and give comfort to
the soul
Plans that let the
mind wonder and see the universe as it really is
As the porch radio
plays some Mozart for the
Viola
I dig the
warm black wet earth of my compost pile
And watch
the worms curl and wiggle in the sun of my spade
. One by one I
introduce them to an old soup can in my wicker creel,
Then close the hatch
along with a sandwich and a thermos of Cha (green tea)
And step back into the
daffodil strewn path and backtrack
to the pond ;
Stretching out
my winter legs with a pole over my shoulder
and some verse
crumpled in a beat up paperback stuffed in my back pocket
.
My quest is
simple; a rhrendevous with my favorite tree,
contemplate the still water,
cast a line ,
and let the March sun
warm my face
Then if the Gods
of Spring smile,
let em bite Py