I am participating in the March Slice of Life Story Challenge. Thanks to the co-authors of Two Writing Teachers for creating this supportive community.
Last Christmas I received a book of poems, Felicity, by Mary Oliver. It was a collection of hers that I did not own, and she is definitely a favorite. But for some reason I hadn’t found the right moment to read this work. Yesterday afternoon I saw it just laying there on the edge of my desk – an invitation. The very first poem, “Walking to Indian River” grabbed me. I quickly marked it with a post-it, then read the next poem. In a matter of just a few minutes I realized I was placing a post-it on nearly every poem!
The first lines of “Walking to Indian River” go like this:
I’m ready for spring, but it hasn’t arrived.
Not yet.
Still I take my walk, looking for any
early enhancements.
So, inspired by those words, I took a walk in my back yard, searching for signs of spring. There are still some patches of snow, but there are also tulips and daffodils reaching up through the soft, muddy earth. Their buds are tight, as if unwilling to let go until the air is warm and the sun is bright. The forsythia is trying, but may be losing the battle a bit this year. Still, hopefully there will be a sea, or at least a large lake, of yellow soon. The birds are returning. There was evidence of someone making a nest in one of the bluebird houses, although I could tell it was not a bluebird. Hopefully my bluebird friends will decide not to be bullied by the sparrows and will return this year. The cherry tree buds are small but abundant, whispering the promise of a full show by late April.
And then…this morning I woke to snow showers.
