Morning. Good.

This morning is a
dip-pretzels-in-the-jelly-jar-breakfast kind of morning,
a coffee-in-the-hot-tub start
uninterrupted by crows discovering a bit of meat in the compost
or by a Siamese alarm clock demanding food.
We watched the shadows shorten,
the frost disappear from the yard,

Twoey waits

a deer venture into the field,
the crazy starling
bring yet another load of sticks
to the downspout.
Shouting didn't deter him.
Twoey the cat
climbed up the twigging
to investigate the possibilities
but soon gave up.
A beautiful-but-frustrated cardinal

Frustrated cardinal

flew from oak to birch
still hoping for a mate.
He has spent the last two weeks
frightening the identical cardinal
who lives in our window reflections.

The Gouger

May is full of good mornings.
Two bent-kneed hours-old fawns

stagger across the dirt road
following their mother.
The rock man we call Gouger
now stands in a fragrant cloud
of wild pinxter.
Nearby,
a red-tailed hawk
glides over the road.

Dubec Road fog

Yesterday
Den squinted at two eagles,
dots in the sky.
Other mornings,
fog obscures all but the closest branches.

Monday morning
was especially good.
We were awakened

Small visitors

by small voices
and then small hugs
as Anna and Lucy spent the night
so that Bop could take them
to see my first grade's performance
of Peter Pan.
Never was Hook so nasty,
Tootles so endearing,
or Pan so enthusiastic!
Before the show,

Velma's bleeding hearts

Peter introduced each classmate
to his hundred-year-old
great great grandmother
who is living proof
that we DO grow up

Heart, bunnies, earrings, ballet shoes, paintbrush

and that life can be a great adventure.

During morning recess yesterday,
Madeline and Lara
ventured into the wetland edges
to gather huge bouquets
of buttercups.
We dissected them for science,
then compared them
to the pink bleeding hearts

in the vase on my desk.
These flowers from along our walk
were transplanted years ago
from Velma Bargerstock's garden.
When Den was a boy,
he'd walk to Velma's for a visit
and a cup of coffee.
She'd pour hot water
through the same grounds all day.
Her bleeding hearts
have been on this mountain
for over a century.
We pull the hearts apart
into bunny slippers,
earrings,
ballet shoes
and a paintbrush.
There is yellow pollen paint
on the paintbrush.
God's creations are amazing.

Peace,
Sue and Denny

A Winter Morning's Prayer

I recently read that people often have guilt
because their minds wander when they pray.
The author (Philip Yancey?) suggested that we
turn our stream of consciousness
into a prayer.
I've been trying it on my way to school.

Whoa! The driveway is slippery!
Keep Gilda away from that tree!
God, bless Aaron Adkins who sold us Gilda.
I think he's in Kenya now.
The election massacres are horrific.
Give the Kenyans peace.

Here's that curve
where I went into the snowbank twice last winter.
I would be sooooo embarrassed
to tell Denny and Dorretta
that it happened again.
Thank you for family and friends to share my shortcomings with.

Denny put the stonework in that ditch with his dad.
A local woman grew up
hiding from the communists
in a ditch during the Korean war.
Thank you for my life in America.

There's a lot of traffic on 322 today.
The top of the mountain must be pretty slippery.
I wonder if Shirley is in one of those vehicles.
God bless Shirley.

Put it in neutral to coast down the mountain--
I get braking on all four wheels
and save gas.
Give Paul and Katrina wisdom in their plans for next year.
If they have to drive more,
at $6/gallon,
gas will be a major consideration.

Stop at the Rockton post office for Mom's mail.
Help her to rejoice in this day. Me too.

I have now passed from the Susquehanna watershed
into the Allegany River watershed;
Rockton is on the eastern continental divide.
I remember visiting Colorado's divide,
when a tiny car drove up
and three guys unfolded out of it.
"This here's the continental divide.
That means half of the country is on this side,
and the other half's on that side."
Then they refolded and zoomed away.
Help my stupidity to not be too obvious.

The frost and light snow are on every tiny branch.
Luke used to call this a "magic day."
God, give Luke a big hug today.
Let him feel your breath.

There's the little cross where Marion Miles died.
God bless her grandchildren.

I'm passing the bus station.
Bus stations always make me sad.
May something good happen to that guy
when he gets to his destination.

There's Riverside's enormous flag.
I think that's the biggest flag I've ever seen.
Except maybe Fort McHenry in Baltimore.
God bless the people who serve in our military forces
and their families--
Jeremy
and Kasey
and Steph
and Luke
and the other Luke
and all Luke's friends--
and our Baltimore friends.

I'm almost to school.
God, put your hand on my family today.
Oh, and please heal that guy
that was in the accident in Tanzania.
Why is it that my thoughts are so often selfish?
What was that C.S. Lewis poem?
"... I am mercenary and self-seeking though and through...
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin.
I talk of love, A scholar's parrot may talk Greek.
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin...."
I probably didn't get that right.
Hold my mind together.
Me again.

Parking lot. Take the keys.
It's crunchy cold. I love it!
Yessss!
And amen.