These trees are about to explode. Every year I attempt to catch the moment and every year I miss it. This year, outside in the yard every day, time to kill, I look up to see what’s happening. They’re close to leafing, I can almost hear it. You can see, in some of them, little clusters of stuff beyond branches, not yet leaves, butContinue reading “#363: These Trees”
Tag Archives: spring
#345: According to This Map
I have lived for a long time now in the country of Autumn, ruminating in the mountains near the capital city of Change, trying to see my way back into Summer. I know I’m going to hike my way through Somewhere on my way over the Plains of Solitude, and I may have to takeContinue reading “#345: According to This Map”
#343: The Steampunks of Spring
The Steampunks of Spring Two octopuses sit on the window sill sporting their top hats and flight goggles, little works of art made mostly from recycled odds and ends, scrap leather, gears, watch parts, wheels, lucite grapes, steel wire, old jewelry, junk. Behind them, through the glass, Spring arrives. The oaks are alive with squawking crows andContinue reading “#343: The Steampunks of Spring”
#312: Senses Working Overtime
Unseasonably warm on this 26th of April, 86° in the shade, giving new meaning to “the cruelest month” moniker, and I’m biking home from work, still in work clothes, feeling myself try to crawl out of them, the sun beating down on my back as I pedal home. It’s a short ride, but long enough.Continue reading “#312: Senses Working Overtime”
#297: Front Yard Haibun
Mid April, that Japanese maple explodes first with leaves and the giant oak trees follow its little footsteps a few weeks later. It all happens at once. Most years no one sees it. One day there are no leaves. Next day a million leaves. The grass greens. There’s a hammock sometimes to nap in andContinue reading “#297: Front Yard Haibun”
#258: Waiting for the Leaves
(after Mary Oliver) I’m sitting in the office space that adjoins my classroom while my student teacher is wrangling with a group of freshmen, and I am thinking about my oak trees. In this stark, small, white room, lit with florescent tube lights, desk littered with papers, student work to grade, a stack of booksContinue reading “#258: Waiting for the Leaves”
#13: The Walk
The Walk Wandering around in the yard looking up at these gigantic oaks, bare branches, April, too early for new leaves. It may rain. Neighbors getting their mow on, blowing the last vestiges of winter out of their driveways and flowerbeds. My own lawn, freshly mowed. If it were warmer and dry I might beContinue reading “#13: The Walk”
michael jarmer 