gone

The ice on the lakes is gone. Melted. Disappeared. I see that this evening, on my way home.






Finally I am ready for her. Rosie, Rosie, come out already. I avoided you since November. Come out and ride!






With Rosie, I can speed, but I can slow down, too. For the beauty of the fields before me.





Remember these pauses? Yeah, Rosie, pause here for a second and then zip forward. Careful now, we’re in traffic. Have to watch those careless campus types. Have to remind myself what it’s like to be on a scooter.


A scooter ride is a good time to think. And here’s one small question that keeps nagging at me as I zip by on this unusually warm March evening – how many times in life are you put to the task of reinventing yourself? Me – often. If not that, then this. So often! And so I get used to change. I don’t question its presence. I assume that, yet again, I will have to consider something entirely different.

But as I scoot back to the farmette, I think – may it not be with the essentials of life anymore.


Ed is there, waiting when I finally roll in. It’s past 6, but the sun is still out. He asks – you want to hack away at some of the honeysuckle? We could work for a half hour or so..

I give it due consideration, but I know I cannot. My workweeks are too busy and too draining all at once.

I scramble eggs, cook up some broccoli and, too, make a salad. A poor excuse for supper, but at least it’s healthy.