Remembering

Even though it's still too wet to get planting in the garden, spring is slowly creeping in. I walk around the yard greeting the returning flowers, the budding trees, hearing the birds, the spring peepers. Over the winter I forget the sounds, the smells, the beauty of it all.

Here is a lovely poem by Timothy J. Nolan

Long Winter

So much I've forgotten

the grass

the birds

the close insects

the shoot- the drip-

the spray of the sprinkler

freckles- strawberries

the heat of the Sun

the impossible

humidity

the flush of your face

so much

the high noon

the high grass

the patio ice cubes

the barbeque

the buzz of them-

the insects

the weeds-the dear

weeds-that grow

like alien life forms-

all Dr. Suessy and odd-

here we go again--

we are turning around

again-this will all

happen over again

and again- it will