A Day Late

(This should have posted yesterday, of course, but I was feeling moonstruck—)

What comes to me on this spring solstice (and full moon) day?

. A new Mary Oliver poem, "Leaves and Blossoms along the Way"

(The point is, you're you, and that's for keeps. —words I've been waiting to hear

. a recipe for lamb burgers with grilled shallots and goat cheese

. a picture of a friend in an intriguing northern England garden; countryside I almost know

. one of the tiny paprika-size-and-colored bugs I know from childhood (windowsills, Santa Fe:  box elder bugs, maybe?  And why am I associating them with Latin classes and the sunny patio behind our classroom one May morning?)

. a little ringing of the treebell / birdbell with its paper tail

. the pages of writing I thought I'd lost, and a confusion of others

. a good curry, under the trees

. bright red Adirondack chairs for sitting in to edit

. the mirrors in the garden—a multiplication of garden like a reflecting pool, but holding mysteries and almost memories (that sultry square somewhere in Mexico where a train stopped for an hour one night)

image:  She Who Is, Woman of the Wild