In the forest I remember to be happy. Remember I am happy? Moose tracks - from earlier this morning given their pliability - come up from the pond but then disappear. Trillium blossoms and flowers I do not know the name of abound. Oh world begin again that I might get it right at last!
Turtles slide off fallen pines and the ripples of their passing extending hundreds of yards to shore, just barely perceptible to one who gives attention. What are dandelions but the sun in a form we can touch? Bear scat and acorn caps, memories and dreams. The apple blossoms lose their blush, deepening as we all do in the direction of fruit. She walks with me, arms folded, quiet and strong, mostly beyond my wordy reach.
Maple trees a mindless benison! I stop to talk to L. about the trellis she built from fallen birch branches, studying with her the beds of soil from which morning glories - my second favorite flower next to bluets and tulips and hollyhocks - will soon arise. Oh give attention to all that arises, within and without, and attend the song it is always singing. Tadpoles darting through shaded pools and when I say they remind me of semicolons, she says "Okay smart ass but what sentence are they a part of?" Also, the bird feeder is broken, chewed at last by squirrels I refuse to chase away.
One spends a few minutes before bed pondering the economics of running Versailles in the eighteenth century and does not perceive it as a loss. Thought, perception, translation, expression? At night I dream of the front yard lilac and in the morning its blossoms - at last - are gently brushing the windows. Oh adverbs, you are always hiding something essential. Chickadees, fear, sorrow, rabbits.