Apr. 25 The red trillium I seldom saw in Ontario, was more familiar with the white. Here, I have seen no white ones yet, though there are more and more reds in bloom. I was writing to someone about science fiction and my autocorrect changed Sci fi to Sci if. Poetic. The wind is blowing…

 Apr. 22 the snow is a river blind as april as summerless     pouring down the meadow the world ends at the south ridge all distance gone it snows though blood trilliums have bloomed in the woods the sun casts tree shadows on the fallen snow  but still snow flows down the mountain blown on…

 Apr. 21 I put up the “Blind Dog” sign yesterday and already the name “Blind Dog Hill” is beginning to sound familiar in my mind. Fig is skinny as a rail now and his hair is falling out – mostly his long coat, his short, darker coat is so soft, but I feel his ribs…

 apr.17    The snow and my rain gauge, mocked! We had no precipitation for 15 days and I began to feel that I, myself, was beginning to need rain as much as the thirsty meadow. At last it began to rain on Thursday. I scrambled to find my rain gauge and planted it by the…

 Apr. 13 having tea i ran home after school through iced-over ditches in hand-me-down boots and in the kitchen mom made tea i told her everything i don’t remember how but i felt as if i’d handed her my day i don’t remember her arms but i felt as if she held me to her…

April 7                                             Kismet Gefilte Fish with horseradish. “Though April showers may come your way, they bring the flowers that bloom in May…. It isn’t raining rain, you know, it’s raining violets.”* I want…

 April 2 written in february at the vineyard. lemon clouds on a sundown sky the snow is a thing it breathes  it is a paintbrush the ice stalactites frozen time. what is this place? i don’t know who I am. i wake up here, i live the day, i go to bed.  i’m not really…

 Mar. 31 This morning the sun is shining and it feels like a true spring morning. Our meadow is filled with pink sunshine and the branches of the pine trees are red with expectation of new life. Suddenly there are birds. Through the winter there have been chickadees, crows and the pair of ravens who…

Mar. 26 How the chestnut branches curl up like fingers! The buds are getting fat.       Snow drops, our single white crocus that comes up by the maple tree each year. A neighbour has lovely egg-yolk yellow crocuses.     The squill are usually later than the crocuses, and also twice as tall as these…

 Mar. 23 We arrived in Toronto just in time for the blue skies and sunshine. Birds are singing everywhere. The 427 and Dundas Street are roaring. Not as bothersome as expected; rather it is like the roar of the city’s blood in its veins. This is, after all, my home. I grew up here.    …