Oddments

In search of story


2 Comments

Connections: May 4.18

A lather of spring pinks

foaming panoply

peppermint, strawberry, cherry

ice cream canopy.

 

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5 Comments

Connections: April 28.18

And so it begins

genesis

triumphant bow

or nemesis

the garden that was

the one that will be

hover in mind

tantalizingly

evolving in increments

slow, heuristic

I allow a trifle

narcissistic.

 

 

And so, dear reader, with this first purchase,

begins the adventure of turning someone else’s garden into mine.

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4 Comments

Connections: March 29.18

I wish I could send you, dear reader, a bit of this morning. We are due for yet another day of rain (have mercy!), but right now the rain is merely a hint, heavy in the air. It is barely day, but there is enough light to make the budding trees crisp against a bland sky. They aren’t moving. The pond is steady glass. The air is early-spring warm and utterly still, as though afraid if it breathed it would cease to be.

I can hear a mourning dove and some kind of chirpy thing, both chanting their Lauds, each in its own way. I can also hear the rainwater draining into the pond, a gurgling antiphonal to the birdsong. There is an occasional car which sounds far away. Mostly I am swathed in quiet. I feel like an intruder, but I stay, also trying not to breathe.

Have you ever wanted to put a moment in your pocket so you could pull it out again when you need it?

 

 

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