Wednesday, April 23

Turtle Huddle

Wlaking the dogs down to Little Beach from our house, I passed a swampy pond inhabited by turtles, cormorants, and the occasional duck or goose pair. Today, dozens of turtles in all sizes were sunning themselves on submerged logs, a few piled awkwardly on top of each other, others off on their OWN log, and big grandfather turtles waiting patiently behind baby palm-sized turtles. Soon, I can take our new, grey-turtle cloured camera down to snap some pictures for you!

Monday, April 14

Considering the Day

When the day's plans skid across my mind like a rush of cars to the common screeching halt at every stop light between our house and town, I grab a piece a paper before the light turns green and all the speedy plans rush away, lost on their own sidetracks. Composing an agenda becomes a daily habit not entirely intentional, conceived in the need for traffic management, lest the mind's highway become a mental wreck scene, each pointed plan a cell phoner screaming for policing. What life is there, I question, beyond the fly-by list of the day?

I want to see a master list that dictates the road of errands and laundry, a language pattern to describe the slow-motion ritual into which the need-plans riding in imaginary motorcars speed. All creatures have instictive Things To Do, man having the priviledge of manipulating the basics into elaborations of reality. My list is a declaration of ordered time, commanding myself with the end of pleasure in things done.

Wednesday, April 9

Spring Snow

Like its brother Winter, Spring
the season, pours forth a show
all in white, decking the wayside
with blossoms cloudlike as if
suspending light on shadowy branches
in the understory of the forest,
dispels the gloom of grey days
on end, leftover clouds of rain's
essential recipe, precipitation
welcome from a burdensome sky, with
the sun be buried by her leaden veil,
a light springs forth from the woodlot--
happy the seed whose funeral rites foretold
of the lacy gown on the dancing dogwood.