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April 5, 2005
Spring Snow
A Winter Morning Ted KooserA farmhouse window far back from the highway
speaks to the darkness in a small, sure voice.
Against the stillness
only a kettle’s whisper,
and against the starry cold
one small blue ring of flame.
Orion and I drift to and fro in our rocker, our breathing a somnolent metronome to this moment of morning stillness. My eyes slowly open as Orion stirs in my arms, and I can't help but smile at our small, perfect world inside -- for now, nothing to wait for, nowhere to hurry to.
Outside, earlier, the pre-dawn grey was all sugar and snow, confected by last night's storm. The spring declares itself here despite the persistent ice and cold; the smell of boiling sap and wood smoke lingers heavy and sweet in the cold air, birdsong is slowly edging into our woods, a few tentative moths alight at dusk, and this morning, threads of spider's silk hung low, weighted with garlands of snowflakes. Signs of spring are subtle and precious; the university where I teach, some 40 minutes south, devotes a webpage each year to cataloging spring blooms on campus. Yesterday was their inaugural entry for this year: snowdrops (snowdrops!).
Although the season seems slow to change (according to many, the maple sugar harvest is late and somewhat below average in our area this year), the small changes of each day bring details of beauty, even in the midst of winter's brief return.
a shell patiently waits for the warmth of spring to arrive at the beach
Posted by pavel at April 5, 2005 11:00 AM
Comments
Orion, thanks for the great new screensaver. Your wonderful big eyes are making my workday pleasant.
Love you,
Grandma G.
Posted by: Gina at April 5, 2005 3:46 PM
I love the PSU what's-in-bloom page: how cool! Here in Keene, the crocus & snowdrops are in bloom, but I haven't seen witch-hazel.
Posted by: Lorianne at April 6, 2005 6:50 PM
Glad you're back. I missed my daily peak into Orion's world
Posted by: Melissa at April 6, 2005 7:21 PM