Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Seasonal

All the recent rain and then a sunny day in the 70s has pushed the grass up. I came home early today to push the mower through it for the first time of the season. I notice in the car mirror my hair has gone mostly silver. This seems new to me and alarming.

I've noticed lilacs blooming this week, and today the first ruby-throated hummingbird appeared at the feeder. This is the third summer they've shown up here, after she invited them. These things, of course, make me think of her. Today, I was able to celebrate my memories of her and hope for her happiness. I sent something out.

The May flies are out already. It's dusk. The cardinals come by. A robin trills. My roommate, a few years older than I, says he doesn't recognize his own face in the mirror. His dog is 14 years old. "I'm all you've got," he says to the dog who mock-snarls back at him.

I'm glad, at least, that you will never feel like a hostage living with me.

No comments:

Post a Comment