Saturday, February 6, 2010

Spring Fever

I laugh when others ask if I get bored
because each weed, each root, each row
means more than every letter in every word
on every page of every book, more than
numbers on ledgers in tables and charts,
or notes in measures in staves in songs,
step by step, day by day, month by month
my life awaits you. Like a good novel,
you draw me into the excitement of never
knowing what the next moment will bring.

(from a long poem entitled "Conversations with a Garden," by Virginia's collaborator)

"You make me wish I were in your garden," says Virginia.

"Don't worry," I say. "You're there."

[By the way, the snow plow continues to work very well, see picture below.]

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