Monday, March 30, 2015

Sprinkles on a Chocolate Earth

...taken from a fastwrite during the "Homeschoolers 3-week class series" about 'spring.'

I drive the way I always do through the narrow, car-parked corridors of Bloomington streets...prepared.  For opening car doors, stray cats, wandering students, baby-wearing dads, or the occasional couch on curb.  Prepared either to dodge, or feast my eyes - elaborate lawns turned wildspace, artscape grass ornaments, band on a front porch .  My little black Honda, Loretta, is miniature and swift, perfect.

Today, the five-month grey, cobalt frame of winter stains my retina.  Passing pokey knee knobs of trees with skeletal branches over and over, I sigh.  I drive the way I always do.  Until I don't.  A lawn blanket of perky spring crocus strips all co-ordinated efforts.  My car drives towards them as if being pulled, lured by the Siren's songs.

They've got all the crocuses in town!

Tiny violet miracles, effervecent magic like sprinkles on a chocolate earth.  I turn the wheel just in time to remember, I'm still driving.  The stranger's yard survives a near collision.

It'd be sad to drive over all those flowers.

It's a wonder that each time the spring face says hello, it's a wonder.  Even though I've heard it's story before.  I love this about spring, how it lifts us out of expectation, scatters our vision like puzzle pieces into a new, oh yeah.  Prepared?

-Refreshing life is always alive beneath the surface waiting to spring

for the PGM


  1. Such a powerful, in-the-moment (we would expect no less of our Allison) depiction of how we are all drawn to, craving, the coming of color and new life into our dreary, cobalt world. I have actively worried about the crocuses on these last nights of freezing temperatures. MKP

  2. Allison, you took me right along with you in your ethereal yet grounded way with words. You and your writing lift my spirit.
    Thank you!