As its title suggests this post originated earlier in the month but due to a variety of factors it didn’t manage to graduate from ‘draft’ to ‘published’. Since early April we’ve had a mini summer, frost, and now it’s in between. Happy Poetry Month!
My feet are tender but I wear boots and walk slowly when I take D out for his early morning pee. I go with him for all of his constitutionals these days as he has developed a knee problem. Under ‘doctor’s orders’ he has to limit his activities though spring calls out to him to wander and explore.
growing up, autumn was a season of flaming maples…the area where I live now is populated by conifers so change shows up differently . . . in rusty grasses, late wildflowers, low angles of light. As winter draws close, colour and sound soften to a hush.
I notice the scalloped leaf edges, how each leaf attaches to the base of a flower stem. I see a royal lady’s collar and remember a name: ‘Lady’s Mantle’.
imagining a story
for her name
I later read that a ‘mantle’ is not a collar, but a sleeveless cloak. The name Lady’s Mantle was inspired by the leaves. It refers to their resemblance to a scalloped cloak shown in images of the Virgin Mary.
Another day at home for the two of us and the dogs. The wind knocks over a shovel on the porch and 55 pound Diesel barrels across the floor barking urgently. The other two dogs chime in, their madness continuing as snow blows its quiet storm.
As another grey day winds down, I hide in a new writing corner. This is my first, and hopefully, last pandemic winter. Last year, the infamous 2020, covid 19 may have been lurking in January, but no whistle had been blown. It wasn’t until mid-March on the cusp of spring that the World Health Organization declared a world pandemic.
Cold, damp, and dry, winter is our flu season, the time people typically get colds and flu so it is no surprise that COVID numbers are skyrocketing. I have been staying home but as of today it’s mandatory in Ontario…the pressure on society and the suffering of many is palpable, my salvation being gratitude for food, shelter, a home and so far, good health.
The other day I was towelling off after a shower when I noticed a shape at the window. I lifted the curtain and there before me was a white hen. She had clearly wandered from someone’s coop. With a gaze, both casual and intense, she pecked at the glass as if she wanted to come in. Though unsuccessful in finding her owner, we found a family willing to add her to their flock.