Revolving door

April is when the little stream that flows through our land dries up. Been watching it slow down. As it wanes, the daffodils burst out of hiding, the grass awakens. A first mow just days away.

That revolving door in The Extraordinary Attorney Woo... just like our seasons. We pass through to go places and it just keeps on turning whether we are waltzing along with it or not.

I am trying my hand this year at growing my veggies from seed and the first handsome fellas to greet me are the radishes, rearing to go. I celebrate that. Lets go Rads. Hurry up all ya dill and parsley and coriander. In my mind I have been ushering in the spring, longing for the warmth to return. Come to me sunshine.

Yet while the first blackberry arms are racing to conquer ever more territory along the edges of the woods, I float along with a measure of reserve and perhaps even grief. How so when around me only the tango of robins and the hushed rising of the sap.

It is all too fast. This growing up thing, this sun spots on the back of my hands thing, this off to collage and away thing. This and that and them and all of it. Can I just go around in the revolving door for a while, get dizzy, dizzy on the swing spinning over the flowing stream? While it is still flowing.

Even now.