Day: April 14, 2014

Can a walk be a poem?

On Crystal Hill, we searched

for sparking stones,

we listened to the peepers symphony,

down in the steaming swamps,

we wondered at the ice,

clinging to the top of the swamp.

We saw the first frost of green,

on the tops of the trees,

we saw the pale shy sun,

hiding up in the trees,

we heard the cherubs sing,

and the sparrows cry out in alarm,

we heard the mournful cries,

of the crows scavenging through the woods.

We followed the path,

deep into the woods,

saw the scat of the bears and coyotes,

heard creatures scampering off,

running on the crackling dead leaves,

the survivors of the long winter,

we heard the chimes of the streams,

running beneath our feet,

on our first walk on the path

of the new Spring.

Can walk be a poem,

or a meditation?,

look at us,

we are like flutes,

singing in the Angel Chorale,

shouting Yes, Yes, Yes.

I’ve never taken a photograph of a stump but I came across this stump in the woods during our afternoon walk, I thought it was the most beautiful stump I had ever seen, I crawled over and around it for awhile trying to get the angle right, the light right, the detail right. I love the photo, I think it is quite strange and beautiful, I think I am seeing the world anew.

Those of you who followed our move from the first Bedlam Farm to our new home may recall the scraping, painting, scrambling, de-wallpapering, the clouds of flies and other small plagues that descended upon, pilgrims in a lovely 1840’s farmhouse. Florence Walrath was revered, and tough as well, but she did not ever have the money for luxuries – like storm windows.

When we got finished replacing the slate roof, tearing down the collapsed old barn, re-wiring the house (it could not have handled two computers) and getting the kitchen habitable, we just ran out of money. We never got to the storm windows. This, it turns out, was a continuing drama. In her later years, Florence painted the windows shut and closed them, summer and winter. I’m sure it was her way of staying comfortable and saving money.

In the summer, we have had clouds of flies, mosquitoes and giant moths the size of golfballs dive bombing us at night. The upstairs bedroom, not used for many years, was a luxury motel for giant flies and various insects that threw themselves bravely against the windows, there were no screens. In the winter, the wind blows right through the upstairs windows, our bedroom is frequently so cold we have to sleep downstairs. We love our house, all this is life in an old farmhouse, it is solid as a rock and fits us like a glove but it is not a split-level in suburban New Jersey or Connecticut, it is not long on amenities.

This week, Jay Bridge, a carpenter (former geologist) and handyman came to install the storm windows he brought a few months ago but could not install when the brutal winter descended. We knew we had to get through the winter and it was plenty cold upstairs (the two wood stoves did a great job downstairs), but I am glad Jay arrived this week before the flies, moths and mosquitoes (the flies are here). He put three of the windows up today – we were using a system of small and porous screens, the bugs found them quite convenient.

We love our first storm windows, we actually have an open window and fresh air moving through the house. Rain is delaying Jay tomorrow, but we expect to have the windows by the end of the week. This will change our lives.

Every afternoon, Maria and I now have a maternity meeting with the sheep, four of whom are bred and due. Maria leans down and looks at their butts, udders and stomachs, then sits and talks with them.  She told them there is a full moon eclipse tonight around 3 a.m., a red moon, and she suggested it would be a good time to have lambs. The next meeting is scheduled for tomorrow morning.

This is the dawn of Spring, last week there was snow and ice. I can see this great transition through my camera lens, the yellow meadow, the hint of green, the strong light in the clear blue sky. The textures in this photo spoke to me, they signal the very beginning of Spring, the eternal return to life and light and color.