"It's as if a great bird lives inside the stone of our days and since no sculptor can free it, it has to wait for the elements to wear us down, till it is free to fly." Mark Nepo

Monday, March 2, 2009

Spring Sky


I love the adolescent moodiness of March. Today's sky was March at her best. A fresh clean starched blue all day long. A few clouds forming rick-rack around the edges. The air almost warm. The sun so bright that it brought tears to my eyes that weren't entirely joy.

By the time I got home to walk, the clouds had taken over. But not the heavy suffocating wool of winter clouds. These were the first clouds born of spring. 

The western sky was obliterated by gray-blue cobwebby sheets hanging clear to the ground. They waved with restless energy,  their general demeanor ominous and threatening. A large flock of sky sheep grazed the hills of the eastern horizon. Overhead was a theater of cloud shapes begging for a summer audience of still bodies lying in sweet grass interpreting the ever-shifting stories. 

As I set out on my walk, the clouds decided to have some fun with me. Random hailstones tapped my head and shoulders, with surprising gentle playfulness. Giant splatty raindrops hit the pavement around me, missing me, but not by much.

The grand finale as I headed home was so close that longer arms than mine could have reached out and touched it. The top was whipped cream just before it becomes butter, filling the entire north sky. The bottom, a slice of blueberry cake Paul Bunyan might have been willing to share with Babe. The sky behind had become a bright blue Fiesta Ware plate.

Tomorrow's sky could easily become dead, dense wool again. It is March after all. Which also means the lush, energetic fertility of the new spring sky won't be held at bay for long.

photo from Flickr

7 comments:

Carrie Wilson Link said...

Nobody notices, and writes about these details, better than you!

Kathryn Magendie said...

I am in Texas, and just looking at my emails where my comments go and etc, before I head to the hospital...but, for some reason your name has been in my head all morning! I woke up with Deb Shucka in my brain -- so, I've learned not to question these things, but just go with it --- I hope it's good news that is in the airways - or perhaps you were just in the air strong today--who knows? but there it is...now maybe since I've come here and said your name is in my head (lawd, that sounds strange!) my deed has been done to come by and tell you ...laughing--!

Angie Ledbetter said...

Deb, listen to Kathryn. She a smart girl! :) Oh, and so is Carrie!

This is a line for a future poem, hopefully: the adolescent moodiness of March

kario said...

Hmm, that last paragraph. Have you been reading Jerri's blogs about cooking? ;-).

I love the way you write about nature. Your words are gorgeous!

She said...

I LOVE how in tune you are to your surroundings!

Beautifully rendered as ALWAYS. How do you do that?! You are a GIFT in my days!

M said...

Simply beautiul writing!

Love
Mark

Jerri said...

Blueberry cake sky. Only you, my friend. This is gorgeous, just like you.