Early Bird

05-12-20a
ink, watercolor, collage

I'm an early bird and so are my cats. I resist their breakfast summons until I hear the robins chattering outside. The sun is just getting up too but it seems to linger under the covers like I do. The world spins a little more and soon enough, as the coffee gets brewed and the cats get fed, the sun casts a low broad beam into my world.

In this spring, like no other in my memory, time moves extraordinarily slowly at times. I mark off the days of quarantine on my calendar. Since mid-March I've dotted my days in rainbow colors and I've watched the maple buds gradually unfurl outside my sunward window. Bumps on the branches elongate and send out structures to capture the sun's energy. Leaves begin like errant unfastened parasols. Who left you open like that? Is it bad luck? Eventually, day by day their black silhouettes crowd and obscure the view out my studio window. I dot more days and we don our masks.

The sun gets up earlier and earlier each day. I try to keep the cats to a schedule of not getting me out of bed earlier than 5:00 A.M. Sometimes rain clouds and cold weather help us all pretend that it's only early March. It has been a cold and wet spring. But the leaves can't wait and snuggle in their beds. Their life is to be out catching the sunlight and there is no choice. So, like the pandemic perhaps, I welcome the intrusion (as I have before) and marvel at the patchwork of new green leaves that filter sunlight into my space. This too shall pass! The sun seeks me out and admonishes me… slothful sluggard! Go forth and greet the day! Make hay!