Spring makes me wish for a more powerful macro lens.
I want to capture all of the delicate splendor of the yard as it wakes from winter.
I use words like “corolla” and “calyx” in poems,
and name characters after weeds and wildflowers.
Henbit and Purple Deadnettle.
Speedwell and Dandelion.
Spring is the only time of year when I truly love ants.
As I follow ants with my camera, I find other treasures.
When carpenter bees emerge, my imagination becomes airborne.
I stalk our carpenter bees with both macro and long-focus lenses.
Long-focus lenses let me stalk the yard’s other visitors, too.
But I always return to the macro lens, yearning to be closer.
Publication note: On March 2nd, my poem “On Losing the Old Dog” posted at Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, which is one of my favorite poetry sites. Many thanks to editor Christine Klocek-Lim!
The yard is warm and sunny today, sprinkled with blossoming weeds. A few weeks ago it was frozen and snowy.
This year January and February saw days warm enough for house repairs (replacing wood damaged by carpenter bees), followed closely by days too cold for anything but reading and sleeping.
Some days were strangely confused, cold with bright sunshine or warm with dreary skies.
Our annual writers’ weekend at the beach brought a little bit of everything.
March will likely bring a little bit more of everything, but hopefully it won’t get fountain-freezing cold again.
My poem “The Calculus of Parting Lovers” posted at vox poetica on April 7. Many thanks to editor Annmarie Lockhart!
(And, because I can’t resist adding photos, here are two recent images from the yard….)
Today was finally warm enough to feel like spring. Add in an entire afternoon of bright sunshine, and it was a beautiful day in the yard.
As much as I enjoyed my afternoon in the yard, I couldn’t help comparing it to last year’s spring, which was both warmer and earlier than this year’s season. By the end of March last year, the pear tree was fully in bloom and the yard was full of bees. This year, the pear tree is only beginning to bloom and I haven’t seen a single bee.
Last year, all threats of frost were past. In fact, there were days that felt like summer. The tulips were blooming and spiderlings were hatching. This year I’m afraid to uncover the ginger lilies, because it seems likely we will see more frost, and the tulips are just getting started.
I wonder if our delayed spring will spill over into a delayed summer, or if summer will simply storm in right on the heels of winter.
Today was so warm that I pulled the lawn mower out of the shed, checked my gloves for spiders, and spent several hours working outside. As I scraped away layers of leaves, twigs, and mud, I found traces of spring in every corner of the yard.
After finishing in the yard, I opened the windows, took off my shoes, and invited spring into the house.