6.4.16 Here's how it goes

Down by the pond, everything stops. 
Thoughts that stop us cold fall away.
Memories that churn set upon a shelf.
Yearning, masking true sadness, folded and folded again, into soft and cool,

 then carefully placed by the by. 

As the still Spring wind pushes against us, knocking us breathless , 

bringing us up short.
Pressing us back into our own lives , 

as that bright sun leaves til another day.

 

6.4.16 Teeny tiny itsy bitsy thing

6.3.16 One part rain, two parts June

6.3.16 Just another day of small moments

Down by the farmers fields, the air is cool, the breeze constant , while the land and trees shine, newly washed by the night's swift rains. So we wander down the dirt road, surrounded by newly and deeply tilled fields, while the tall grasses of yesterday have been cut, and lay strewn upon the ground, quickly turned golden. 

The Redwing blackbirds in the brush scold us as we pass by, the pollen and seeds from trees coating the path as if with snow.

We about to head back, and I see a young doe casually skipping down the far roads, through the fields, as an enormous red tractor in the distance plows one direction and then another.

She catches sight of us, and stops, watching with curiosity. Here she is in her own neighborhood, out for early morning breakfast.

I'm slowly walking toward her, the pup in hand, and she dances a little bit further toward the wood, and then stops, and watches me. Her beautiful long neck and huge ears and soft brown coloration in contrast to the bright new green leaves behind her. 

I smile, call to her. Not wanting to acclimate, but still, I can't help it. I call out hello. I ask her if she's having a good day. I say something about isn't this a beautiful day we have here. 

I see she is more and more curious, and I laugh. . Possibly she doesn't know what to make of the black one next to me, padding along, big enough.

But for now, she doesn't need to. One dog is not the same for deer as several. No matter the shape they're in, they can alarm and threaten a deer easily. One dog, like mine, can run fast, but not for too long. The deer, with their sharp hooves and their fleet long-distance running, are fine. 

But he doesn't notice her, as we get closer and closer, as I smile and see how beautiful she is.

Finally, her commonsense gets the better of her, and she hops along, beautiful enormous white tail flashing, looking over her shoulder at me another time, and then into the brush, where I see her, paused , watching . 

So I leave her be, as the clouds darken ,curling around each other overhead. As the land explodes into it's almost summer growth. 

As I enjoy this cool dark day, in stead of so many bright hot ones to come.

6.2.16 Paying that piper

It's quite something, when we, in our small lives, find ourselves in that situation 

where we've done too much,we've gone too far, and we're finally cognizant.

We begin to get a sense of our trajectory.
We begin to turn about. 

We begin to turn ourselves away from
the too much to less, somehow, and the too far back,

 toward our limited understanding that here, now, 

we shall be paying the piper.

 

6.2.16 Out along the muted plains

Bido-bee at your service

6.2.16 And then,

sometimes

we are the recipients

of such enduring loving kindness