It’s cold.
(We’re both right. Sunny, but cool again. Transitional stuff. Though the cloudless skies are predictable. Skies clear on April 21st every year. By the 22nd the heavens are a deep blue. That’s the norm. At least it’s how I remember it!)
I’ll buy you a latté.
It’s tempting, but I am swamped. I have the usual end-of-semester flood of work and in addition, I’m skipping out right after class tomorrow. To return Monday. Not likely that I can get much done Saturday or Sunday.
Take a break, why don’t you. You need the exercise.
Oh fine, you win. But just for an hour. No more! (Ed knows where the weak spots are. And he's persistent. It's a killer combination.)
It’s a short but beautiful trek to his farmette. Across the road, we watch cranes search for their meal. (What do cranes eat?)
We pick up the rackets at the shed (not the writer’s shed; that project is waiting for a design solution to the water issue). I do think that this is the best time to stroll through Ed’s property. It’s not overgrown. It’s gentle and sweetly innocent. Not aggressive, not overwhelming.
The breeze kicks up the willow and again I am reminded of Poland. There is the statue of Chopin in the Warsaw Lazienki Park – he’s sitting under a willow, getting inspiration from nature. It’s a beautiful image.
I’m going to Poland tomorrow. Just for a couple of days. But they’ll be sunny days. And I am surely ready for them.
In the meantime, we volley the tennis balls back and forth at the secret tennis court and I laugh heartily at our mistakes.
P.S. Many, many thanks for the good wishes on the previous post. Every message there and on email is a treasure. And it speaks of your good hearts. Again, thank you.
