Wednesday, March 20, 2013

On the Equinox

Spring Crow by MichaelDouglasJones

Just south of the Patuxent River headwaters, walk a furlong east of the buffalo road; at the midpoint where the slope between ridge and valley branch calms to a level large enough for a small cottage, we made a home, facing east, to welcome each morning in the never ending season of forevernow.  

Vernal equinox moves in from the valley early, across the eastern horizon of old oaks, with promises from passerines heard above the first forecast of crows. Morning wakes, taking me up to the ridge to watch winter, with her worry, fade in the dawn brightening day. Behind me at the cottage, the melancholy cooing of mourning doves atop the terracotta chimney pot, predawn’s last song, softens to silence as I climb the hill beyond the tall pines. Silhouettes of robins in the redbud offer a new song, another chance to start, and a spring season to plant life anew, the past washed away in the floods of freshet.


  1. Oh, this just made me smile, because even though Spring has not arrived here yet (clearly she is happy to be there hanging out with you), I could see it, I could hear it, and just for a moment I was there. Thank you for that.

  2. this reads with your wonderful rhythm, as always. walk a furlong east of the buffalo road - i had to say that out loud just to feel its movement on my tongue.

  3. I just found you through Twitter, and what a nice surprise. Our lives dovetail in some very cool ways ... we write of similar times, experiences. I'm so glad I found your blog. I'm @bayousummer2 on Twitter.

  4. So excited that you may be joining us for August Moon, my friend. It wouldn't be the same without your exquisite wordsmithing.


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