So spring is coming around, I think. Usually here it lasts a week or so. Then back to winter for a time, then somewhere around the first week in August we move in to summer. It‘s a process here in Bend, OR. The passing of seasons has the flavor of a negotiation that the town has with the weather. During these unmediated rounds of pleading with the tilting earth. if the sun pokes out, even as a joke, the houses empty immediately and we all gather around the warm air and rub our hands together. The mountains are currently loaded with snow still and the rivers are as swollen as varicose veins. The deer, awaiting an even slower Summer to reach the highlands, mosey through town eating everything green, red, violet, orange. They eat anything growing. They are fearless, hanging out everywhere. Actually I find them a bit smug.
Rose and I are waiting for our son. He is right here in the house with us. I can feel his foot trying to find the exact middle of Rose‘s liver. Her belly has knobs on it now. We wait, and he, like summer, is shy. I am patient. I live in Bend. Nine months of a pregnant winter, but the summer is delicious.
Technical note: the best camera you have is the one you are holding. This picture was made with a phone through a window. It won‘t win a Pulitzer, but I still like it. Hold the camera you have. Take it with you. Put it up to your eye and hit the button. Good things happen.