~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
If you’re walking in the woods, spring barely whispers.
But down toward the creek her signs are everywhere.
In the damp places, skunk cabbage unfurls its green robes
and spring beauties smile up from fresh grass and
the wee grass flowers, too. Along the creek’s edge, coltsfoot,
and then in the clearing, a whole carpet of new green,
green leaves, and blades, and buds, and flowers.
And hear how the creek sings out spring’s name!
Hear how that joyful creek sings!
It comes at you like some dark, giant bird,
stirring the clouds across the breadth
of the horizon, its power pushing ahead
of it, cold and smelling metallic.
It changes everything, leaves you
when it passes, in an altered world
drenched with choices bathed in new light.
Size them up. Pick one, laughing. Carry on.
I hadn’t been to the wetlands since December 31. That’s the date every year when I take a photo of sun setting directly behind the stand of trees on the west side of the lake. I’ve done it for three-four years. I like taking photos of the same place over time. I love to see the changing moods as the seasons roll by.
So it was March 10th and I found myself driving right past the wetlands’ little parking lot. I had a few extra minutes, so I pulled in and parked to get some quick photos. As I left, the idea came to me that I could take pictures on the 10th of each month to watch the changes.
To my surprise, when I noticed today’s date, April 10th, I remembered that stray little idea and went back to see how the wetlands looked today.
Here’s the result so far. Stay tuned. A May Edition could be rolling down the pike right now.
