Archive for April, 2015

Dogwood Winter…….

Posted in Where Angels Perch on April 4, 2015 by rodzink

This cool breeze…whisping.  The chime…Hindu elephants and bells… on the porch… the new leafs on the cherry tree and hydrangeas…the Dogwood turned pink overnight.  Inside the house.. a sound I haven’t heard for years, but familiar enough to recognize age old visions…  I recall standing on many mountains, staring off into green valleys… looking over streams….. gazing into a thousand fires…  Ninja Turtles… the sound of Ninja Turtles.

My big kids… working now…. spending more time with friends… at the mall….  I sat up last night, struggling not to fall asleep, until Baker got home from his afterschool job. Proud of him.  I’ve seen so many..so very many… “next steps.”  Watched my kids grow…. their interests develop.  Time… letting go… and not wanting to.  Sometimes, I squeeze my eyes shut…tightly… and venture back… I can still see Belle…freckles… Chacos…. standing knee deep in Buster Creek… Baker.. steadying a rifle….. or striking flint to start a fire…. many nights, nestled in a tent…. They may never know what those days have meant to me…and why I venture into their rooms at night….. just to see them….look into their faces… trace the lines…. listen to their voices.

My mom always told me there were three winters….. She could tell me when they began on the first day…. Early spring… hinted at warmer days… walks on the river…. the grass turning green… redbud…. Out of nowhere, a cold snap…. we always had to dig out a jacket…or sweatshirt…. And just as it did this morning.. the Dogwood buds would erupt in beautiful pink…..  Dogwood Winter.  It’s all warm days from here…until the day before the blackberries bloom.

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Like those small buds on my Pink Dogwood…. on the beautiful cherry tree…. Aaiden Grei…. Aashir Rais…. I’ve become that old stalwart… stubborn… oak among the hardwood.  I remember the open hardwood flats on the top of Aetna Mountain, where I have walked many miles… hung many tree stands…. warmed myself with my brother near countless campfires…. Towering Oak and Hickory… Poplar and Hawthorne….. each spring brought the life below to a green…new….life.  These two little boys.. tender… saplings…. new life… my boys.  I get to watch them sprout. I have the unique perch…and view… to peer down at them.  I have been here… I know how the days can pour through clasped hands…. I recognize the grey on my own head….. the aging shell over this fragile soul… I know…full well.. the path… the slippery rocks… the cold wind….. but that view along the way… the innate…familiarity…. of a warm fire… the sound of sleeping kids… laughter…. carved names along the Cumberland.  Etched names on the trunk of this old tree….. Baker… Annabelle… Aashir Rais… Aaiden Grei…

This morning… the Dogwood…. just outside my kitchen window… is a radiant pink…. I catch myself looking at it each time enter the kitchen to refill my coffee… Ninja Turtles movie in the background…. Dogwood Winter

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