Saturday, May 23

sunshine and cold nights

















I'm about to make myself a cup of hot chocolate to take off the intense morning chill before going for a walk with Cedar in the jogging stroller. The annuals are in the ground, the tomatoes are planted, the strawberries are laden in green fruit. It's been go go go the past four days while Tim has been at work. Everything turns into a blur and I look forward to his return to shake some interest into the normalcy.

Saturday, May 16

time-lapse days






35mm film, pentax camera



Baking potatoes in the oven.

That throaty trill the robin makes as she flies out of the garage. I cannot find her nest.

Cedar and Tim at the farmer's market, buying salmon for dinner.

The plastic film canisters from my mom, filled with last year's seed. Love in a mist, cosmos, coreopsis. Hollyhock she collected in Estes Park. Cardinal flower, cleome, calendula.

Watching the steady move of things to be done around here, getting done, a little at a time, like the tide receding or like time lapse photography. Today, a pile of garden tools, a cluster of laundry baskets, a hammer, a filled basket, an empty wall. Everything swept together flotsam-jetsam and slowly finding its way back to tidiness.

Friday, May 15

the wings of winter birds










35mm film, pentax camera



It's hard to believe now that winter is gone and the weeds are growing high. The colors are green, not white and blue. We are barefoot every day and one of us is naked most times too. The seeds are planted, the raised beds are built and filled, laborious as that was with wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of good humus or leaf mulch or compost scraped from various places in the yard. At night my back aches with the labor and the fan blows the welcome cold spring air onto the futons.

Last night Cedar slept in his bed all night until the morning.

After breakfast we go out and open the door to the chicken coop and all the chickens leap out in a dusty joy of freedom, dancing and springing over the grass. They are Reuben and Luke, Hope, Esther, Ida, Sesame, Agatha, Sundog, Cherry and Peach.

Now birdsong is so loud it wakes us up. And we see the birds still, but not so many. Not like just a few short months ago, when the yard was covered with the shadows of their wings and they ate companionably shoulder to shoulder on the back railing, under the snow and blue skies.

Monday, April 27

us













Saturday, April 25

the barn party





We walked for 40 minutes through the woods and on back roads to go to a barn party. There were hot dogs with relish, tiki torches, peanut butter bars, and huge snappers swimming in the pond. Someone started playing guitar after the bonfire was lit. We climbed in the barn rafters. We walked home late and Cedar fell asleep in the wagon.

Thursday, April 23

visiting Gloucester












It's been a while since I have gone away overnight without the boys. I planned a trip to visit a friend in Massachussetts awhile back and then had reservations: what if something happened to me on the road and that would be the last time Cedar saw me? Normal fears, I guess. Which make me want to stay home and hold on to moments which cannot be held. But I went. And it was good. And then I came back home.