April 10, 2008

There was that time this afternoon that I was wandering around outside.

A neighbor had been burning brush for me and then left, asking me to check it before I went out, so I meandered down to the spot on the edge of the hayfield by the old stone wall to find some still glowing embers. I went off to find some snow and picked up a still frozen shelf of it with my bare hands and dropped it on the red chars. It sizzled and smoked in a very satisfying way. I picked up some more snow, two handfuls this time, and plopped it on another spot of still smoldering ash.

My fingers were numb as I put them in my pockets and tracked the path of the gray wisps against the blue sky.

I noticed the green beginnings of daffodils by the stone wall, scraggily poking through the leaf covering. The forsythia on the hillside had some small green buds.

The field was still brown and flat. Tracks of some sort scribbled all through it and I wondered what caused that, the snowmelt or some little critter burrowing through.

I walked around the house to the garden, Now that the snow was mostly gone I could see tangles of things and dried stalks, branches thrown down by the winter weather. And leaves, everywhere leaves and untidiness.

Here on the south side the daffodils were budding and I picked some to bring in to see if I could hurry them into bloom.

The pile of wood, not so long ago looking like a snow pile, now was uncovered, as was a spot where my neighbor had been emptying the ashes from his woodstove. Most of the yard was still too wet for walking.

This was it, the face of the earth, just showing itself again. It’s been a hard winter all around. And someday soon I will have to get out the rake and the shovel, the clippers and wheelbarrow and clean up this dirty face.

But for now it was enough to just welcome it back.

April 14, 2008

Happiness is green, pale green, spring green, hazy green, frog green, grass green. Green like the new growth rhododendron leaves. Green like the moss in the cracks of the stone path. Green for pollywog green, lime green, unripe banana green, watermelon skin green.

Happiness is blue, sky blue, ocean blue, turquoise Caribbean sea blue, iris blue, hepatica blue, Victoria salvia blue, old glass bottle blue.

Happiness is sun yellow, daffodil yellow, dandelion yellow, school bus yellow, rain slicker yellow.

Is tulip red, apple red, strawberry, raspberry red, fresh raspberry pie with whipped cream red, cardinal red, maple bud red.

Is poppy orange.

Happiness is brown-haired son about to graduate from college.
Happiness is black-haired daughter soon to turn 21.

Is white paper filling up with blue ink words; grey letters becoming words scrawling across white computer screen.

Happiness is –finally- spring.

April 17, 2008

The cancer community is like springtime to the winter of the disease of cancer. It warms us, brightens our lives and brings us hope.

April 21, 2008

It is a miracle that the daffodils push their way through the thick, sodden mat of over-wintered leaves. Their yellow heads perch on top of green stems while remnants of brown leaves cling like a shawl around their shoulders.

It’s a miracle that spring once again returns to our precious earth, troubled by wars, hunger, homelessness, ravaged by disease and destruction, threatened by climate change.
And still, miraculously, blessedly, buds form on branches, trees burst into white and pink bloom, blossoms litter the forest floor and by the side of the road, ferns poke up their fiddleheads to play the song of spring.

It is an American song, it is an English country dance tune, it is a dance of spring from Italy to Japan to Siberia. The earth turns, the sun draws closer to the northern Hemisphere and life answers its call.

© Pam Roberts