It’s cold here, with an inch of snow and ice on the ground. Later today, an ice storm is expected, after which a warming rain should set in, freeing up the roads. Through it all, we marvel at the birds, the tiny ones especially, the hearty juncos; and then there are the romping squirrels, whose instinct for play hasn’t abated a whit. I was prompted to write this morning by […]
You’re free to join a political party, but remember, you’ll always pay for the punch. . We were enjoying a cool, quiet evening, our doors and windows open to a nice southwesterly breeze, when some neighbors upwind of us started smoking their supper in what must be one of those barrel-shaped contraptions that use chips or pellets or some such to “enhance” the flavor of whatever meat they’ve chosen to […]
My body language — the way I walk, sit, and stand — would it be the same if I had no clothes? How much of my physical attitude and self-perception is in the clothing I wear? How much of my perception of others is in the clothing they wear? When we meet, do we meet each other, or do we meet each other’s clothes? We’re born naked, wearing a uniformly […]
A clear, starry morning, temperature under fifty degrees. Planets visible: Venus, Uranus, Jupiter, Saturn. Earth, too, was visible. We speak of setting foot on the moon, or Mars, as if doing so would be more wonderful than setting foot on the earth, as if the earth itself is passé, and we’re bored by something we can and must do every day. But if we feel this way about the earth, […]
Dripping maples, full birdbaths, flowers bowing their heads. Since yesterday morning, the temperature hasn’t gone up or down more than two degrees. We leave the house open. Last night, we could hear the crickets. Rain or no rain, now is their time. Thoreau’s journal, February 1854. One day, he followed the tracks of a fox in the snow over a mile. No phone, no map, no app. Strolling vs. scrolling. […]
Last night, after a warm, sunny day, I dreamed it had snowed, and that the neighborhood was a hushed, white calm. This morning, there arose in my mind the image of last summer’s junco nest in our hanging flower basket, after the little ones had flown. And I marveled all over again at its simplicity, and how quickly it returned to the elements, to the earth from which it came. […]
Thirty-seven degrees. There was snow yesterday evening in hilly areas a few miles south, and hail here. Maybe this is why the robins haven’t returned to their unfinished nest in the rhododendron. A few smaller birds, though, have stopped to investigate. Otherwise, the weather continues to be rainy with cool daytime temperatures and brief intervals of sun. Our garden space is still muddy, and the soil hasn’t warmed enough to […]
The tulips are several weeks behind. All over the neighborhood, the plants are distorted, and seem to be twisting themselves up out of the ground. They remind me of Van Gogh’s cypresses. Even now with the weather warming slightly, we’ve yet to see a single open bloom. The cherries, though, are finally at their peak and are beginning to snow. Here and there, resting under the trees facing the State […]
Early April, and we’re still flirting with snow. A couple of days ago, we had two brief hailstorms, the latter of which turned the ground white and bowed some daffodils to the ground, while others, in their white shoes and yellow shawls, stood tall and seemed ready to march up the hill. How strange that would have been. But they stayed where they were, encouraging the others to stand. . […]
It seems a shame to impose myself on a clean white page. It’s like being the first to leave tracks in newly fallen snow, or where someone has carefully raked a shaded path — unforgivable acts, though unavoidable, perhaps. And what of the garden space beside the driveway? If I’m still alive when the weather warms at last, shall I fill it again with seeds and plants, or let nature […]
William Michaelian 