A Promise


It has only been a few days since I left sunshine, painted walls, brilliant bougainvillia.  I returned to a grey city.  The sky has been constantly overcast.  The sidewalks are gritty with pebbles, littered with old papers and plastic bags.  People are still wearing boots and black coats. My car battery was flat.  I went to do my taxes.  I feel as if I had wandered out of ” Over the Rainbow” and into some grainy black and white Cinema Noir movie from the 1940’s  What am I doing here?

Then suddenly a call overhead.  A familiar, heart rending call that stops me every Spring and Fall.  A flock of geese in a ragged V shape were circling around.  Canada geese fly rather low and sometimes look as if the leader doesn’t quite know where he is going.  Today was no exception.  No matter!  Be muddled up geese!  Your call lifted my spirits so.  I was encouraged to poke around in the garden by this dear sign of change, of Spring.  

What a lot of work to be done!  Next week the vine without fail and there are some very disgusting things that have to be disposed of.  But down by the gate another little miracle.  The first snowdrops.  Here they are and that means daffodils and tulips to follow.  Somehow this is even more miraculous than Mexican  lavender or brilliant murals.  What has to fight for existence is somehow even more precious.

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