Swarm

swarm in november?

the birds flew a week ago

before the record cold.

the ladybugs have disappeared

(except for the few who are still hanging around on my kitchen ceiling…)

the bees are safe

making honey in their hives,

even the stinkbugs have gone into hiding.

here at the cottage

there are no swarms of bicycles, umbrellas, cars, or children.

there are swarms of leaves,

but I took that photo last week…

there’s a swarm of paint cans in the basement

(but that does not inspire.)

i was just about to pass on this challenge.

after all, i’m plenty busy cooking and cleaning

this week before thanksgiving.

and then, standing by the kitchen sink,

i look out the window.

sycamore branches

this is my view all winter long.

i’ve taken pictures of it before.

it’s spare;

it’s subtle;

a swarm of sycamore achenes

hanging in the november sky.

 

and i’m grateful for the sameness of the seasons — the cycles of nature that come round each year. 

 

Architecture

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When we were seventeen,
We carved our initials
on the inside of this bridge.

Desecrating public property,
Yes. I know.

Thirty some years later
we drove down that same road
to see if we could find the bridge,
the carved initials.

The bridge was there
spanning the little creek.
Newer initials had replaced ours.
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Older and wiser,
we no longer needed
to carve our initials
for posterity,
But were happy
with the remembering.

Last year they tore it down.
Carefully.
Every board numbered.
It took almost eight months,
but now it stands again.
Rebuilt. Repainted. Restored.
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Cox Farm Bridge. Built 1940. Rebuilt 2013.

I’m grateful for memories, for stories, and for those who care enough about covered bridges to make them historical landmarks.

Pop of color

taillights in rain

Driving home in the dark

in the rain

the car sped past us

weaving between lanes.

Almost hit the guard rails

two, three times.

too fast for conditions

ignoring white lines.

Not wanting to see or be

a fiery crash,

We pulled way back–

watched brake lights flash.

He disappeared in the dark

we saw no trace

of ambulance or car wreck

or police chase.

Driving rain transformed to a gentle fog

with misty, eerie light,

home was a mystery novel–

It was a dark and stormy night…

fog and street light

I hope the other car was safely home too…

Gratitude for traveling mercies.