ONE SPRING MORNING
I hear me talking to myself, a mumbling
that strums like a song in my skull –
first daylight dew when I cannot move
without leaving tracks through settlements
of fiddlenecks, ridges skiffed with popcorn
flowers, boots of an old child sprinkled
with petal sequins, white and gold –
trapped in the middle of a melody
I can stretch into the sunlight waiting
warm ahead. A Red-Tail investigates,
and I believe now, recognizes me –
understands my business in his territory,
hears the song in my head. It could all
be a dream, clumped candelabras of golden
poppies folded in flames, marking our way.
My usual fear this time of year is that we can get so busy that we don’t get a chance to just notice and enjoy spring. The oaks are in a hurry to get leaves, cows in the shadow of bare trunks and limbs – this past week: highs to 80 degrees, redbuds crimson now against the green, fiddlenecks and popcorn flowers claiming much of the canyon’s hillsides, poppies burning holes high on the peaks. But there always seems to be an urgency in the air – this year, too, as we try to finish branding calves in places we couldn’t get to because of our great January and February’s rains.
Also a very nice memorial for my mother, family and friends last Saturday.
After branding a little bunch of huge calves yesterday and barbecuing grass-fed burgers, visiting and the clean-up, Robbin and I looked at each other last night with both relief and disbelief – wondering if we may be getting too old for this. Not sure what she’s got planned today, but I’m headed clear-the-hell up the hill on the Kawasaki Mule with some salt and my camera to check on the calves we branded, hoping she can see her way clear to come with me for a good, deep breath of space.
Comments
Thanks for your Notice of Spring from Dry Crik. Beautiful! Here the season has been much more subtle in its arrival, but perhaps it is just me not noticing, being too busy. Been thinking of you.
Posted by: Meg Glaser | March 29, 2010 10:38 PM