March feels like May this year. We took the baby to Shelburne Farms on Sunday and walked down to the lake and looped back through the woods on muddy trails, passing tapped maples. Stopping at the barn we saw the new lambs.
This morning I photographed his hands and yesterday his feet. There is something unfathomable about these miniature body parts already perfectly developed. I notice his ear is the size of my thumb print as we rock together in the living room. Listen, I say, do you hear the birds? You will love them some day. Look, I say, a rain cloud coming our way. We rock and I watch the rain cloud through the branches of the street tree in front of our apartment. I have never been more tired, but I do the dishes when he finally sleeps.
We took Mosey for a walk to the lake today. It was nearly fifty degrees and sunny. The smell of earth rose from the ground; the sun made Josh sneeze. This bow was cut from a tree that was about to bloom a few days ago during a warm spell of weather. A friend of a friend cut branches for bloom the day before a snow storm. One was given to me and I put it in a wine glass which I no longer drink wine from and have watched it slowly bloom on my kitchen table.