April 11th~~
So much is happening in the gladiator world of my finances; Romans 10/Christians uhuh. My back molar is aching and pulsing, and I wrote my column to the staccato beat of pain. Doesn't matter. All those things are just what is, right now, not who I am, not who i will be.
But, beyond those things, that are colouring my perceptions, the glory of spring here in Delmarva is enough to make a poet weep. Each highly sketched work of art reveals itself in high drama: a robin, scarlet breast swollen and bright, perched on a gnarled tree of white blossoms....rich, vibrant fields,trim, emerald green against tall, bleached swatches of last years hay....pansies everywhere, like party hats, planted by delirious homeowners and shopkeepers alike, in urns, in planters, scampering down walkways.
And the scents!! Chicken shit from the farms, and brown manure being flung from huge farm trucks in the fields...Sweet magnolia and dogwood and witch hazel blooms....first cuts of grass, with the sleepy lawn mower ruuurrr as a backdrop, and , underlying it all, the smell of the sea.
Spring comes like the sudden passionate kiss of a lover here. Long anticipated, longed for,and all encompassing, when first felt.
I am in love.