But I also got a couple of things I hadn't planned on buying but discovered were on sale. Two cartons of Thrifty ice cream now sit in my freezer waiting for the warm days coming up. I may not know what I'll be having for dinner every night this week, but there will be ice cream. It will make the onset of heat more endurable, and the heat will be here. It's going into the eighties for four days starting on Tuesday.
Tonight is still cool, and I hear a frog croaking in a nearby yard. The crickets are not chirping, but will again when the evenings warm up. Tonight the air smells of grass and pine trees as they smell only when they are damp on a cool spring night. Perhaps it will be the last time they will have that smell this year. There is no rain in the forecast for the next ten days, and quite likely will be none beyond that. Mid-May will be close to June, and June brings the summer solstice, and the weeks preceding the solstice are seldom blessed with rain. One can never be sure exactly when one is saying goodbye to spring, but I'll be saying it tonight, just in case.
Dark Pines Under Water
by Gwendolyn MacEwen
This land like a mirror turns you inward
And you become a forest in a furtive lake;
The dark pines of your mind reach downward,
You dream in the green of your time,
Your memory is a row of sinking pines.
Explorer, you tell yourself this is not what you came for
Although it is good here, and green;
You had meant to move with a kind of largeness,
You had planned a heavy grace, an anguished dream.
But the dark pines of your mind dip deeper
And you are sinking, sinking, sleeper
In an elementary world;
There is something down there and you want it told.