Looking out

When I put the dog on his leash this morning to walk around our backyard, I asked myself if I should take my camera with. At first myself answered no because I have many, many pictures of my back yard, countless shots of the creek at high and low water, and even quite a series of shots of the forsythia bush I only planted last fall. But then I said to myself that if I saw a duck or heron I would want to take a picture, although myself reminded me that usually by the time I get my camera out of my pocket and switched on the bird has flown. I took the camera with anyway, but I didn't take any pictures outside.

It is cold and windy out, and the wind throws tiny drops of cold rain at one. Usually I am sheltered from the wind in our backyard because it is a declivity, but this morning it's blowing even there. I imagine, then, that up at street level it's an even colder, harder wind. So I got damp and chilly on the walk.

When I got inside, I took a picture through a living room window, since that is the kind of day it is--a day to stay inside and look out the window at the wind and rain.



You can still see the forsythia in bloom. I made sure to plant it where I can see it from the living room windows so that in springs where the cold lingers and most flowers delay their blooming, when I am color-starved, I can look out and see that yellow bush. This has been an early spring, so that lots of fruit trees have bloomed already, but some years the forsythia is a lonely advance guard.