Spring

 

My wife has been suggesting on almost a daily basis that’s it time to set a couple of chairs outside our west facing front door to allow us to sit in the warming sun.  Well, I did it this morning setting them in the still shaded space while the temp measured 36 and a chilly wind blew off the snow in the north mitigating any warmth the bright sun might bring.  I noticed while walking into the northly wind, that several cars parked in the cemetery were not for a burial, but for women who were working on the flower garden in the green triangle space where Denny intersects with Lindberg.  They are heartier than me.

Speaking of hearty, several daffodils are blooming in the neighbor’s yard.  Perhaps it is not too early to include a couple of verses from Robert Frost’ poem, “A Prayer in Spring.”

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;

And give us not to think so far away

As the uncertain harvest; keep us here

All simply in the springing of the year.

And make us happy in the darting bird

That suddenly above the bees is heard,

The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,

And off a blossom in mid-air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love

The which it is reserved for God above

To sanctify to what far ends He will,

But which it only needs that we fulfill.

 

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