Monday, March 24, 2008


SPRING IN THE BLOOD


Here at the end of an overcast day of digging, raking, garden-readying, cleaning up after the wind stampede and burning a big pile of downed cedar branches (during which labors I am now and then reminded by wafts from heaven that the jinchoge has begun to blossom), amplifying the grunge by handweeding, gathering spinach for dinner and restacking a big pile of wind-toppled shiitake logs (with a few biggening mushrooms as reward, to go with the spinach), at last comes the rain that has pent up there in the gray all day, the first spring rain of the year-- a gentle falling from the sky in drops you can barely hear (the bamboos beneath standing quiet as the dusk), bringing to the soul the same mood that calls blossoms up from the ground, makes already daffodils bounce with brightness in their green corners and sets the plum and cherry branches with tiny opals and rubies soon to spread into glories beyond price, making even busy springtime humans pause in their motions and gaze into the quiet distance in search of what must be there, now and then taking a deep breath of it all, with a knowing look in their eyes that stems from ancient human-spring relations and an inborn love of calm. The privilege it is to savor these quiet moments, and the food they are to the winter-hungered heart...

3 comments:

joared said...

What lovely descriptive words and images you conjure, as usual.

Bob Brady said...

Thanks, Joared... It's all spring's doing...

Suzann said...

As ever Robert - heart to heart - thank you.