The Sun Shone

It was sunny today.  I'll say it again, today it was sunny.  The thick blanket of overcast that has been hanging around for days slowly moved away over the morning and then the sky was blue and the sun shone.  Really.  In the afternoon it got up to 61 degrees so I sat on the patio with my notebook and wrote today's poem.  Well, actually I wrote four of them and was still dissatisfied.  You'll find the fifth one below.





Once I moved the birdie tree last weekend the bleeding hearts have bounded out of the ground...






and the chives are putting on a show.  When it's warm this weekend I need to clean out the old stuff around them so I can snip chives to put in and on just about everything.  Except Jello with fruit and chocolate chip cookies, that is.





The goldfinches were on the thistle feeder this morning...

 

and the cardinal came just before sunset.  He's always the last one at the feeder so he must like to eat fashionably late.


I went to the grocery this afternoon.  Every time I've tried to order chicken from Meijer it said "out of stock" so I thought I'd go to Pick 'n Save to see if I'd have better luck--and I did.  They didn't have any thighs but I got a couple packages of boneless, skinless breasts that I brought home, froze, and then vacuum sealed for the freezer.  I haven't done that since Durwood died.  It felt right.  I didn't take pictures, I figure you know what raw chicken looks like.  It felt odd and a little scary to be in the store.  Most of the people wore masks, some not over their noses, and others slung under their chins, but all of the staff was masked.  I suspect that's going to be the new normal.  There was a greeter at the store with a thermometer asking how everyone felt and they've blocked off part of the aisle so you have to enter one door and leave by the other.  Also new normal, I believe.  I got everything home and wiped down.  My big beef is having to use plastic bags instead of the reusable ones.  I suppose I could have asked for paper, I'll do that next time.  I feel a little better about paper bags.

30 April--Hope.  

Hope springs up
flies away on the April wind
leaves a void
in the center 
of my chest.
~~~~~

And that, blessedly, is the last poem of Poetry Month.  I think if there were one more day in April I'd have lost it.  It was also a real relief when the wind died down this afternoon.  I love my wind chimes but the manic jangling of them yesterday and this morning nearly drove me batty.  And it isn't a long drive.  Ba-dum-ch!  I'm outta here. Good night.
--Barbara