Signs of Spring
Jays and crows wing carelessly
over towering, barren canopy
as bluebirds and robins flutter
purposefully amongst bushes
whose branches have yet to yield green -
yet the fragrance of spring,
granted not Tulip trees nor Dogwood blossoms,
is here in the earthiness of damp dirt
and rotted leaves baking in afternoon's sun.
Ash and Oak still showcase abstract
patterns of bizarre, twisted limbs
but scampering squirrels
delight the eye as we wait for leaf and bud.
Perhaps my favorite is a softened palette
watercoloring evening's sky
as ducks and geese quarrel and forage,
prepare for new life
while I, t-shirt clad, watch my daughter
ride pony over hill and field
as sunset winks, promises curfew
will be loosened a bit each day.
by Margaret Bednar, March 21, 2014
This is linked to Imaginary Garden of Real Toads "Camped Out in the Garden" challenge. Our host, Herotomost gave us three choices and I may have stretched the limit as mine is NOT about camping but I did try and rise to the "Lewis and Clark" option.
Camping was the only way my parents travelled - I remember staying at a motel (not hotel) once when it down-poured - otherwise we camped. The smell of the moldy canvas tent, the hard ground (no softened pads for us), the early morning rising so we could continue on the car journey that never ended (they traveled as far as they could go in one week). I remember wishing we could stay and play, swim, etc., but that was never allowed.
I love my hotels, my down comforters, clean bathrooms, pools, breakfasts. That's my kind of "roughing it" :)