There are four drafts of words upon words that I never published here. So much as happened and so much has been felt and all these things are rendered into history. I haven't posted anything since October following our son's birth. All the words and all the time and all the confidence have been mostly poured into motherhood and taking care of a home and family and trying to stay sane and happy. All of that.
This week Henry and I have been outdoors more than inside--even though we are both struggling with a rotten cold that seems to have it's fingers sunk deeply in. I finished the second of two check-log terraces in the side yard of the house where we have been living since last spring. I said I would never live here again--this place where evidence of my childhood collides with that of my own child. These wood floors have felt the stomp of small feet for over a hundred years. So here we are, having been here almost a year after nearly 15 years of absence--our son has learned to crawl and walk and run and talk here, just as my brother and I did.
Last year was a blur. The move was a blur. Now it's spring again, and I have been planting like mad. Henry squeals and runs around in the dirt and tries (usually successfully) to collide with as much water from the garden hose as he possibly can--me wiping snot off his face every now and then with my t-shirt. Our goofy puppy galloping around the yard with a stick or a ball or a gardening glove, or one of Henry's shoes.
I've been thinking a lot about things. That's what I do. I think.
This morning we planted a dogwood tree in the front yard near the woods. I've written poems about dogwood trees and they have been haunting me like shadows scratching a window while you're asleep. There is plenty of haunting here--mostly floating around like lightening bugs, magical, fascinating and ethereal. There are darker things too of course, but they stay in the shadows and you can only see them if you aren't looking. With some experimenting I've found.....well, it's often better to just look, and keep looking. Stare if you must.
It occurred to me this morning that the only side of the house where dogwoods don't naturally grow may be a good place to plant our little tree -- maybe it's good luck to have dogwoods at each of the four corners of a yard. That's why. We have three more trees to plant and I have yet to come up with reasons for where they should be.
That's all for now I think. After a year and a half I don't want to overdo it--not with words.
