May 7 - May 11 In Praise of Dandelions

 2010-Though it’s summer according to the old Eastern almanac, the temperature has gone down to freezing two nights in a row.  We have had peepers here for a while but in this cold weather they have gone silent.   Summer?
2011-A new bird at the feeder, a female rose breasted grosbeak.  Is the male around?  The apple trees are at full bloom but it looks as though the nectarine won’t have a single blossom.  It continues cooler and more cloudy than I want it to be and despite my efforts, it is getting to me.  The height of foolishness to be irritated at the weather, but every time the sun goes behind a cloud, my heart sinks.
Beginning of a renga:

    The red bud in flower
    Viewed against a stark white wall
    Says more than I can.

    Here on this stark white paper
    Nothing kindles, nothing blooms.

2012-Word out at the reservoir is that there are no eggs this year. Something to do with the new mate? Anyway, there are said to be three (nesting?) pairs out there.  Exactly a year after seeing a female, I spot a male rose breasted grosbeak at the feeder. They must be a returning pair. Sadly for him it’s empty since, wary of the bear, I’ve decided not to refill it anymore until the fall.
I watched one of the grey feral cats stalk something and lunge at it then run away with a small rabbit in its jaws. The female has had a litter under a honeysuckle bush and when I was able to get close while she was off doing something I saw that there had been seven kittens born but one had died and was lying off to the side, decomposing. Everywhere is overwhelming beauty but if you are really going to take it in you have to take in all of it.
2013-The dandelion is a marvelous plant; useful, beautiful and cheerful. Something wonderful happens to your eyes after an hour of picking dandelions for wine. Each one begins to look like a little sun and all that sunlight is pouring into your head through your eyes, flowing down your spine and up again, igniting all your energy centers. Almost unbearable joy. A gift to all and yet we despise them because they are ubiquitous.