crackers

Ed repeats over and over again – isn’t it beautiful outside? All brown!

Ed, it’s the sun. You’re reacting to the glow of a bright day.

But I know that he isn’t effusive merely because of a blue sky. He likes all seasons. A man for all of them.

At the farm, it's not hard to be that way. But, on the other hand, how can you not prefer spring and summer? The flowers, Ed! The flowers!

I bury myself in nursery catalogues, looking for early bird specials.


LATER

You can’t waste a day like this one. Want to hike the Ice Age Trail? – we ask our houseguests. One of them, this one...





...looks a bit mystified by it all. Isis took one sniff around the farmhouse and hasn’t bothered coming back. I’m happy that he likes to avoid trouble. He and I share a distaste for it.


Diane, Ed and I set out on an Ice Age segment a dozen or so miles south of here.






Over the years, I’ve come to appreciate how perfect this entire trail is – how it will always find the most beautiful way to get from one point to the next.






And still, I can’t help but look forward to the day when all this turns a lively green.







Ed stubbornly tells me about the loveliness of the landscape  and I agree. It's such a pretty day. Along the wooded stretches, the snow hasn’t quite melted yet. There are icy patches and there, the going is slow.






But on the open hills, it’s as if winter is a thing of yesterday.







Still, spring! I’m longing for it already. There is a reason why Vivaldi’s Spring is my iPhone ring. And, there is a reason why I perk up when I hear the unmistakable birdsong outside. Spring is the refresh and reboot season. The time of buds, the eve before the real thing.


LATER

Sunday dinner. My older girl and her guy are here, Diane and her guy, too and of course, Ed. Sleepy Ed. The same Ed that stayed up half the night working on some design or other and now can’t keep his eyes open.






Still, it’s a Sunday meal, the most perfect meal of the week, made so much more perfect by the presence of family and friends...






(Even as I miss my littlest one and her guy, both in Chicago...)

Nighttime. There’s work, always work on a Sunday evening. But there’s also the little face of a pooch looking at me for a handout of Back to Nature’s crispy wheat crackers.





Karma (the dog’s name) – let me tell you, there’s more to life than crackers. But not much more. Especially if you’re eating them in the company of people you love.