In the fields, ice glitters like fish scales snared in the stubble of corn. The river flooded its banks last week. A January thaw, and now the outlying fields are a morass of ice and sloughed off hunks of snow, stained black with silt and mud. The ground heaves. The ice breaks, and pitches up vertically among the mowed stalks. The winter light plays across it; unexpected iridescence.
In the summer corn grew tall here, and driving slowly with the windows down you could smell it: sweet and starchy; each ear growing fat in the secret shade of leaves and silky tassels. The river was brown and slow. The sun high; the heat supple.
Now the wind bites at my cheeks, and I bring steaming buckets of fresh water to the coop where the hens peck about listlessly among the litter. Spilled water on my jeans hardens to ice. Snow is in the forecast again. A sundog dogs the sun.
In the house, the air is floral and fragrant with scent of cooking fruit: pear-apple sauce. The stove is fat with embers. The cat is lazy. The to-do list is a hundred miles long.
I wanted to launch my project over at Kickstarter on my birthday—but a storm the night before brought down a huge tree on our road (a pine with a glorious crown of roots almost two yards across–up-ended unceremoniously, smashing smack into our phone and internet line) reminding me how small we always are in the scope of things. And also: my inlaws drove off our ice-slick driveway and then managed to get our truck stuck too (trying to get their car out!) wheel-well deep in mud and melting snow… so the morning of my birthday DH and I spent a fun (really, it was!) hour winching vehicles out of mud. I love that we work so well as a team.
So here it is Thursday and on the windowsill are a dozen scarlet tulips from my guy, each one the fierce color of my heart. When the sun breaks through the clouds, they almost make me catch my breath. Each petal illumined, gorgeous, risqué, and utterly out of place against the backdrop of naked poplars and maples: a tableau of gray on gray against the cloud strewn winter sky.
First: a birthday list.
Second: I’m going to launch my project this weekend hopefully.
It’s going to be fantastic. With your help, that is. Truly: the only reason I would have ever dreamed this up is because of YOU.
Third: a birthday wish. I’m declaring my own personal Delurking Day. Say hi. Share: who you are, how long you’ve been reading, and one of your favorite moments in your day.
xoxoxo!
lurking since october ‘09
you write beautifully and reading your words makes me pause and enjoy the “now”.
i’m a single dad, have a daughter 5, and an old sweet lab. i dabble in paint, photography, sketch and my favorite time of the day yesterday was was waking up to an orange dawn and gazing at the sweet souls snuggled up beside me.
Hi! I’m a lurker, I’m a lurker! I read this post a few days ago and ever since I’ve been thinking I need to identify myself but I’m always thinking about it while I’m doing the dishes or putting Josie to bed or any other thing far away from the computer. So here I am! I love your blog! Happy birthday!
Hi! Ive been happily reading/ admiring for over a year now – Love your posts, your photos, your inspiration. Happy Birthday!!
I missed your Delurking day last week, so I thought I’d say Hi now. I really enjoy your blog, and how you weave the small pieces and parts of your life into something much bigger. I hope your birthday was very happy and that February is treating you well.
xxox
I’m a faithful reader. Always inspired and challenged, comforted and encouraged. Your gift is a gift to me. Thank you.
Belatedly delurking to say a belated Happy Birthday. I think
I’ve delurked at least a couple of times through the years, having read your lovely blog writing since Bean was a baby.
Wishing you a wonderful year ahead.
Wow.
What a great photo