Tonight a pallet bonfire, the first of the season, burning the old wood that clutters the lawn. We must have five lawnmower cages, and still the yard burns with dandelion blossom. It's the weekend, time to survey the work of the week: cucumber and pepper and squash planted in the glass room, beets at last in the garden. All by the sweat of our brow, as per Genesis.
The first butterflies and mosquitoes and black flies. And the hummingbirds are back, the little jerks. It's a good thing they're so cute, what with spending the winter in Costa Rica. I wish I could fly along with them.
I woke up this morning to find a little goldfinch, its chest as yellow as sunlight, battering itself against my bedroom window. I tried to rescue him, but I don't know if he could be rescued. He wanted to get behind the glass, or at the pretty little goldfinch in the glass itself. His name should have been Narcissus.