The frogs are happy with the rain a.k.a notes from a day-book


Notes from a day-book:

In this hour before dark and with the quiet woods as my witness
And the calling crow in the distance
And the red-winged blackbird trilling
And the great cannon of a gun sounding in the south
With first, speckled mosquito landing on my hand to inject me
I sit down to put words on paper with pen
But I will move me
To the smoke of the sap-boiling fire
Where the mosquitoes wont seek me

Now I’ll listen
To the hiss and boil of the pan
And the cracking burn of the fire,
The occasional drip into the bucket above my head
With my back against the maple

On the loop we call the “log road”
In the heart of the sugar-bush

And listen to the birds go
To tuck themselves away
This warm February day

The fire burns hot with no smoke
But thick gasses pour clear
From the chimney wedged between cement blocks

I look through the gasses
At the tree tops in the woods beyond
And the sun just edging down among them

Today a honey bee came to suck at the filter cloth
And I picked her up with my glove
And she went off
Perhaps to visit the crocus
Just up yesterday

But I’m too far from the smoke
And the mosquitoes still buzz in my ear
To welcome spring like the crocus in their own way
And tell me their secrets
That make the iguana put sticks in his ears

So I’ll sit in the radiant heat and edge of the smoke
The day is cooling fast
And my shirt is damp with sweat
The gun sounds again
And I wish the guns weren’t so loud

How now, black cherry?
How now, black oak?
How now, my rare friends in the sugar bush?

In the night
When we came back
We heard the snow geese moving north
And we stopped to look for them
But they did not fly across the moon
Only we heard their noises pass us
And move further north in the night sky

And the moonlight on our great white dog
Makes her shine like a giant

The western chorus frogs calling

Making cornmeal pancakes in cast iron skillet
And Ibrahim Ferrer sings
“Hoy siento gran emoción”

The subtlest moments bring you back
Your daughter’s eye
A certain turn of phrase
A bird calling
The way the wind blows

I rode out to sugar camp
In the lightning flashing

And the sandhills going over all day calling
And we look for them in the sky

Paths form
Between maples with buckets
In the sugar bush

I close my eyes and see multi-flora canes rising

The frogs are happy with the rain






9 thoughts on “The frogs are happy with the rain a.k.a notes from a day-book”

      1. We’re done. Pulled the taps and everything. We did 2 boils and are ready to be done. If there is a little sap run with the weather we’re not going to catch it. That’s okay. Signs are that spring is springing. Last week Erigenia bulbosa was up in the woods. I’m sure spring beauty will be up soon. I’ve heard sometimes that the last sap runs can be a little “buddy” anyway.

      2. That’s true of the end of the run. The weather this year has made preparing a tough game. There was a warm spell mid-Feb. and a few boiled, then it froze up, hard to say what it’ll look like ’til it’s all over. With yesterday’s rain, it’s all puddles and mud now.

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