4.23.16 There are times when

The morning mist is swept along 
by the swift April winds
down by the Food Bank Farm

4.23.16 The Food Bank Farm - a least one brilliant generous good man

I love old houses. I love imagining the trees and plants that grew 

long lives, used to grow the house, it's timbers 

and cotton curtains and oils and all. 

I love imaging all those whose lives spent time in the old houses. 

Nights of sleep and lovemaking and awakenings 

and childbirths and deaths. 
In our homes, we have so many beginnings and tragedies 

and then wondrous quiet small mornings, 

looking out the back door into the river's blown by mist. 
The evolution of homes is quite something , sometimes shifting

 from one family to multigenerational to something like this,

 the old Food Bank Farm, now home to so many cars and people , 

and at least one brilliant generous good man.

 

4.23.16 Down by the farmers fields

Everywhere at home.

4.23.16 In Every Direction

Out back of the house, still, you can see forever, the view soon to be 

eclipsed by an explosion of leaf growth , filling the horizon 

with a tender brilliant green, in every direction .

 

4.22.16 Some Fine Solace

It is always wise to know the places 
you have tucked away some fine solace.