Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Poem for Wednesday and First Flowers

Next Time Ask More Questions
By Naomi Shihab Nye

Before jumping, remember
the span of time is long and gracious.

No one perches dangerously on any cliff
till you reply. Is there a pouch of rain

desperately thirsty people wait to drink from
when you say yes or no? I don’t think so.

Hold that thought. Hold everything.
When they say “crucial”—well, maybe for them?

Hold your horses and your minutes and
your Hong Kong dollar coins in your pocket,

you are not a corner or a critical turning page.
Wait. I’ll think about it.

This pressure you share is a misplaced hinge, a fantasy.
I am exactly where I wanted to be.

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It was nearly 80 degrees on Tuesday so after a morning of chores and laundry, I spent most of it outdoors, walking in both the sports areas and the play areas of Cabin John Park and around the neighborhood. I did things like sweeping the deck just as an excuse to be outside. I don't know whether it's related, but we had an unexpected visit from a red tabby who refused to leave our deck once he realized that we had cats inside, which ultimately led to me summoning our catsitter Rose for help getting him into a carrier since she was pretty sure she knew where he lived. That was about all the excitement apart from the women's short program, where I'm sorry the Americans didn't skate their best but the Russians, Japanese, and Canadians were a joy to watch. Some lovely spring sights from the park:

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