Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Sweet Memories






On Monday night I returned to the city from the wedding of one of my best childhood friends. As I was unpacking and straightening my bridesmaid's bouquet rested on my bed, letting its sweet scent fill in the air and remind me of the happy weekend and the happy couple.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Lucky



A few weekends ago my boyfriend and I worked on his deck and garden, straightening it up, setting out chairs and lanterns, and planting seeds for a miniature vegetable garden. (He did a lot of the work before I even arrived, and I helped him plant seeds and string the lights.) We had enjoyed the fruits of our labors over  a Memorial Day cookout and visited with his neighbors for a bit, but I hadn't really been back to see the plants. Today, after a long week, he invited me over for dinner after church. It was such a pleasure to run around the deck and see the little basil and lettuce sprouts, to plug the lights back in, to pull together our Adirondack chairs and enjoy our red pepper and feta omelettes and good conversation. What a delightful evening - I'm so lucky!

Thursday, June 14, 2012


There were, on the roof, the expected things:
cigarette lighters
glass






cast off from the adjacent apartments

but the longer we stood on the gravel the stranger were the items that appeared 




Necklaces and perfume bottles,
decayed

scissors from a shipwreck or an excavation
not one but two sets of nail clippers
a chewed on pencil










the metal reddened, the wood and plastic whitened, the forms distorted
but even the faded colors of the lost toys bright against the tarry gravel.







Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Tomorrow!

I have a plan, but it involves sunshine, something we're finally supposed to have tomorrow.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Thursday, June 7, 2012

A Break in the Rain










Yesterday evening I was surprised by rainfall. I had left my Irish conversation circle a few minutes early, and I stood in the threshold of the cultural center, my shoulder pressed into the partly open door, watching the rain fall heavily to the pavement. As soon as I opened the door I realized I had forgotten my umbrella; I took a picture of the rain splashing into a puddle and against a parked car before I decided that the rain wasn't letting up and I'd best be on my way. I was wearing an eyelet sweater and the raindrops found the holes. The water rolled down my face and pushed the beachy taste of sunblock (ironic!) into my mouth. 

I wasn't caught off guard when it rained again this evening. My coworkers and I were loading up supplies for a community forum. The rain quickened just as we were ready to leave, so we waited in the doorway for a few minutes before making a break for it. The road shone as my boss drove us to the auditorium. By the time our work was over, the sun was out again. I decided to walk home but stopped to enjoy a corner park. Through the tall grasses and rhododendrons I saw a boy reaching up into the branches of a tree and collecting something in his hands. I walked around the fence to the path, and climbed onto the rocks beneath that mulberry tree, reaching the berries he'd left. 


Sunday, June 3, 2012