Seasonal adjustments

The mower deck is back on the tractor. Once again I’ve demonstrated that “Easy On, Easy Off” is a marketing phrase that doesn’t meet truth in advertising standards. Does it ever go on and come off easily? Sometimes. Does it do so consistently? No. Do I have the level, smooth, garage floor shown in the commercials and the you-tube videos? Not even close. With our budget and obligations, that would be a luxury we can’t afford.

On the bright side, this morning I read the transcript of a rewarding and insightful conversation between Camille T. Dungy and Pam Huston. It reminded me of some things I know but haven’t been thinking about for awhile (seeking progress, not perfection) and brought me some new perspectives I need to integrate with other fragments of my still morphing personality and outlook. (I’m trying to do as Dylan implied and keep busy being born.)

On an even brighter side, the Better Half and I snuck off this morning and got this year’s (Minnesota and Wisconsin) fishing licenses. Since the tractor activity summarized in the first paragraph is a taste of what I would end up doing more of, if I don’t get out fishing as often as I should, I believe the motivation to exercise this year’s licenses has been markedly heightened. May we all enjoy tight lines and the places where we tighten them.

One of the ancillary issues of a benighted spring such as we had until recently is that  it really compresses the transition period from winter to summer. When I was younger, I could handle such  an adjustment more easily. Abrupt transitions don’t fit well with my desire and need to pace myself. I think that brings me back to going fishing, or at least scouting, more often as a way to manage the change in life between seasons.

our pear tree in bloom

Photo by J. Harrington

As an example of a rapid change, last week or so the pear tree was bare branches. Earlier this week, leaf out occurred. This morning it’s covered with  blossoms. I hope we have some pollinators around.

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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