“Soon, Mary, soon….” I speak to myself as we drive down the street. I marvel at spring! I am watching it wake up. Magnolia, dogwood, weeping cherry and maple punctuate the all too familiar landscape. We pass by a blaze of forsythia. Birds circle overhead, too far away to hear their song. Temperatures are rising, be it ever so slow. I long to shed my last layers.
This weekend my brother and his wife came from the eastern part of the state. A three years absence, (before Covid), we enjoyed an all-too-brief encounter. An occasional phone call or text was the extent of our communication. Neither of us think we are “phone people”, until we start talking. Then we can’t seem to stop.
May is quickly approaching. Lilac and lily-of-the-valley will come. Their stay will be brief. I will again hang hummingbird feeders and wait. I will hunt for robin’s nests and listen to the bushes. I will follow butterflies and geese with my eyes and welcome them home.
Music draws us, whether we hear it or see it. Whenever, however, and wherever we meet, we are home.
A song from the east
Echoes through flowering trees
Melodies of spring
Dversepoets.com haibun. I “alluded” .
“Today, let’s experience the joy of bird songs! Write a haibun that alludes to bird songs, or your favorite songbird.”