Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Pigeon's Early Spring

In Pigeon's yard there is a hill. At the bottom of the hill leans a slim, young willow. The willow's branches dangle over a pond. Beyond the pond there is a thicket. The thicket borders a small, square meadow. At the edge of the meadow stands a tall, proud tree. Under the tree sits a still, brown cow. And the sun shines over them all.

The heat of the sun was a new thing for Pigeon, who had been outside many times before, but had never gone barefoot; he'd never wiggled his toes in the grass, nor felt the warm breeze delight the buttery-white skin of his arms. The sun had never been strong enough to turn Pigeon's cheeks pink or prickle his brow with sweat; he'd known only the crisp autumn air and the weak winter light.

But this week, the sun shone brave and bold and hot, and though there was a wind, it was a warm, welcoming kind that coaxed people out of their doors and buds out of their branches. Some trees wore half-sprouted blossoms like broaches; others were wrapped in a gauzy green mist. This early burst of life set the birds singing, the bees buzzing, and the daffodils blooming. After noting how unusual, how lucky and welcome the warmth was, there was nothing left to do but enjoy it. And so Pigeon and Mother went out in the yard; they walked down the hill and stood under the willow. They followed the path between the pond and the thicket, gazed at the meadow, and bowed to the trees. They sat with their faces to the warmth of the sun, as contented and quiet as the still, brown cow. And the Love shone over them all.


  1. Replies
    1. Oh, it IS! It was just over 80 degrees yesterday. This morning is delicious, mid-sixtees with lots of birdsong ;o)

  2. i felt like i was there with you - you write so beautifully - what treasures for your little man. :)


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