Thought, Emotion, and Feeling Part Four: Yards

Photo courtesy of Scott Cramer

Photo courtesy of Scott Cramer

As a child, when I felt alone and adrift, I found comfort and safety in my yard—a handful of lilac held to my nose, listening to birds hidden by trees, summer grass soft under my feet, then the leaves turning red, yellow, brown and raking them for burning in a fire. What I remember from the period through elementary school is less about people and more about my yard and home.*

While feelings of unhappiness and happiness are in this memory from my book, this piece draws upon a thought that just as nature nurtured me as a child, nature still nurtures me today. When a February photo of a recent large snowfall in northern Massachusetts arrived on my WhatsApp, I immediately found this little poem coming through, and sent it on to the sender.

 

Snow cake

Snow cupcakes

The Vermont cabin

shivers excitedly.

Little thoughts

deep under snow

under soil

patiently waiting

their turn

bursting through

bulbs no longer

growing shoots come

to green the earth.

 

Photo courtesy of Beth Russell

Photo courtesy of Beth Russell

Dark skies from intermittent sun and freezing days and nights persist in this photo's locale—challenging elements of nature for one's being outside. But in March, rains begin.

By April, south of Massachusetts, in Connecticut, on the edge of land facing Long Island Sound where I visit, ocean air encourages hidden life. In a large yard with sloping shoulders to the street, I walk slowly and purposefully, scooching down by each cluster of daffs and in particular this one, as it shelters by a large rock outcropping in the front of the home. The rough grass is the stage, and I, the audience of a bent bud just awakening, and higher up, the vivid yellow trumpets welcoming me to a family home, announce—Spring!

My realization is, "Themes of life that define and express us in early years may turn out to offer lasting friendships with our only seemingly changing selves."

*Prema Jasmine Camp, A Flower for God: A Memoir

The “Vermont cabin” named in the poem is a backyard grape arbor designed for cooler relaxing in a chaise lounge in the summer heat.