Looking Up

These past few weeks I have fallen back into walking--sometimes strolling, sometimes at a quick pace that nearly takes my breath away. I walk alone on errands to the library, post office, video shop, or for exercise and fresh air. I walk with company to dinner, to bars, to spy new apartments, to chat, and to laugh.  

Always I am looking. I take note of flowers, name trees (this book is helping), search for new details on houses that I've passed many times. I truly love the neighborhood where I live.

The first signs of spring that I found dotted the grass like colorful easter eggs. Now the trees are all in flower, coloring the sky and giving the daffodils, tulips, and hyacinths some competition for my attention. I snapped these photos on a number of walks last week. 

(If you know my husband, you should probably ask him to identify the plants in these last two photos. I just like to make sure he's been listening to me babble enthusiastically tell him about all the plant names I've been learning.)

I'll leave you with a poem about the strength and calmness of trees.

I Go Among Trees and Sit Still

I go among trees and sit still.

All my stirring becomes quiet

Around me like circles on water.

My tasks lie in their places

Where I left them, asleep like cattle...

Then what I am afraid of comes.

I live for a while in its sight.

What I fear in it leaves it,

And the fear of it leaves me.

It sings, and I hear its song.

--from Sabbaths by Wendell Berry

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Thanks to Maria for her post, which inspired me to read Wendell Berry again.