Don't Blink

I turned my back and it all turned green. Last time I looked, the bracken fronds were just beginning to show; determined and pale lime green prodding up through the brown, unfurling slowly at the tips. Man, spring is quick. I turned my back and for a short while and got lost in down days, a shit-storm of uncomfortable thoughts buffeting me on their way by. I got attached to achievement - the lack of, to progress - which was backwards, and to patience - of which I was totally devoid: All thoughts that I had created, felt and let go of - but not before they had taken their toll. The heat of the sun was on my shoulders and I felt heavy. I didn't run, I didn't walk, I didn't look up. Shitty. This evening I went out in the rain which fell vertically, persistently. It hung ripe and heavy from the hawthorn flower buds and along the fence wire between fields. It had washed elm seeds down to pepper freshly mulched veg beds, and tassels of larch needles, newly sprouted and fragile onto last years carpet. The bracken fronds, last time I looked were 2 inches tall and sparse. Now, they are everywhere, almost as tall as my small fat dog casting a haze of soft electric green over the moor. Man, spring is quick. From not there to everywhere in just a couple of bum days. Damn, I blinked and missed it.

erica george