The emergent imperative of now

 Eleven years ago today, our front yard looked like the picture below. The same spot today is under 6∓ inches of snow. On the brighter side, the Sunrise river is back to open water, a pair of Canada geese were resting on the water as I drove past earlier today. A day or so ago I noticed a pair of turkey vultures feeding on road kill on the shoulder / ditch. In less than a week, daily high  temperatures are supposed to reach  the mid 70s. Maybe by then the ice covering the driveway will finally be gone and sneaker time will be back.

fern fiddleheads emerging: April 6, 2012

Photo by J. Harrington

The snow melt that’s gone on already has the Sunrise rising over its banks. The marshes are now flooded and will be further submerged for some time. Then, as the blue of the waters declines, the greens of emerging leaves will burst their buds. Tracking the Status of Spring nationally shows a mixed bag with some areas much earlier and others later than usual.

For those who celebrate, Easter weekend begins tomorrow. Passover began at sundown yesterday. Beltane comes at the end of the month. In many ways, spring is bursting out all over. May we enjoy the pleasures and blessings of the season, share the warmth, and feel the stirrings of life reawakening.

The Song of Wandering Aengus

By William Butler Yeats

I went out to the hazel wood,

Because a fire was in my head,

And cut and peeled a hazel wand,

And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,

And moth-like stars were flickering out,

I dropped the berry in a stream

And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor

I went to blow the fire a-flame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And someone called me by my name:

It had become a glimmering girl

With apple blossom in her hair

Who called me by my name and ran

And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering

Through hollow lands and hilly lands,

I will find out where she has gone,

And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass,

And pluck till time and times are done,

The silver apples of the moon,

The golden apples of the sun.

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