Not One Spring...But Two !

Yesterday was a fun day.  We had some visitors, friends from home who live here in FL for 6 months along with other friends who are here for only two weeks...so far.  Nice to visit and catch up on all the news and of course, have a nice lunch together.

A couple of Snowbird families have packed up and left already with more to head home on Friday.  It sets me to thinking of home too.   I found a product to use for my very itchy eyes, thanks to a recommendation from a friend.  It is a homeopathic formula called Similason available at most drug stores and even Walmart carries it. It seems to work!! So much more than the dozens of others I have tried, including prescription eyedrops.  I am thrilled!!

This time of year, the sun rising in the east makes its way onto our Fl. room porch which is on the north side of our place.  I love the way it slants its rays in the windows in the early morning, sending in such a nice warm light! I can take my coffee, my crossword puzzle and my daily devotional reading out there and just bask in that warm light.  Mornings are cool here but with the windows closed (no pollen this way either) it is such a great place to be.  The birds like to stop by and sing from the trees just outside the windows, feed at the feeder and take a nice splashy bath in the birdbath.  A great place to meditate.  While doing just this, thoughts form and I reach for my pen.... to capture them before they fly away.  Thus this poem about Two Springs.

                 

                       

Not One Spring...But Two !

A Cardinal scolds, then changes his tune,

It's early morning, fresh and cool.

He's joined by the mourning doves

And the noisy little titmouse too,

They are making sure, in the world of birds,

That none are left to snooze.

I lay awake... lazy bones today,

To stretch and pray and plan my way

Into the gift of this fresh new day;

For here in the South, Spring has come.

Through the open window this March morn,

Wafts the wonderful scent of orange blossoms,

Their sweet, sweet fragrance

A soothing balm.

The caress of a soft breeze

Stirs the scent of the grass

Fresh cut yesterday,

And sets the wind chimes singing

And whispers through the evergreen.

I heard the morning paper

Go Plop onto the lawn,

As the paper girl flew by

Dispersing the news out of the windows,

Both sides!  Both hands, alternating the toss

With manning the steering wheel !

It is time to rise,

You are already stirring,

The coffe's made.

And so the day begins.

It is nearly time to migrate North again;

Where Spring is yet to come,

Where only subtle hints

Of warmth and grass appear

Around the Maple tree trunks

Where snow melts into the ground.

And where the gentle drip, drip of sap

Collects in pails, a promising sound of Spring.

 There's a stiff March wind about,

Chasing the clouds across the sky.

The nights are still cold; 

Some days, a dozen shades of gray.

I'll be home in time to visit 

The sugarhouse when the sap's a-boiling;

In time to watch as they draw off

That sweet, sweet syrup

Pale as liquid gold.

Maybe have some sugar on snow

And homemade donuts.

Or stir up some maple cream

While sitting with my face to the sun

In the lee of the woodpile 

On which I lean.

Oh Yes, I'll be home, 

Lord willing, before the robins,

Home in time to watch another Spring arrive.

                         Dottie Richardson 2012  

                                                                                                                       Sap's a-running!