MAGGIE DREAMS

A sweet note just now, from my cousin Maggie, down in Alabama, to brighten these cold climes.   My sunshine outside today belies the chilly temperatures, and yesterday’s icy drizzle was a gray day only to get-in-out-of and into warm comfy clothes, with a quick trip to the kitchen to send the scent of brewing coffee through the house.

Maggie’s garden may well be doing all these lovely things, for it’s far south of us, and because she has a touch---for plants and flowers, a capacity for love that’s absolute and complete, and a talent for the perfect bend to put her sweet face right on the level with the littlest ones, assuring their total thrall and devotion to this dearest of Grandmothers.   

And she always writes in columns, slender bits of pure poetry, though she intends a mere newsy letter, and a  description of the simplest, most ordinary things becomes an ode to the joys of seeing and experiencing and believing.

Just a note from my Dear Maggie:

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Dearest,

Each morning I step out

into a dew-speckled

garden, each drop a

rainbow-studded

diamond adorning

rosemary, tiny lettuces,

pencil thin asparagus

shoots raising their

heads to the sun, baby

carrots growing beneath

the earth, lemon,

orange, and cherry red

tomatoes--a whole salad

bar bedazzled in

morningʼs solar glory.

(Dreaming again)

When February greets

us, as it has, with

sunshine and warm

days, I get lost in a

daydream--thinking of

spring and anxious to

plant a little garden spot.

I can almost taste the

tiny asparagus drenched

in olive oil and sprinkled

with lavendar sea salt.

Folks are saying, if this

warm weather remains,

we will have bugs and

mosquitoes galore in the

summer, but I so love

the warmth of the

sunshine on my face that

Iʼm simply savoring the

beauty of the days.

I just got back from the

early service at church--

stopped by the river on

the way home to sit a

spell and listen to the

waters rushing over the

rocks. Came home and

watched deer roaming in

the woods behind the

house. Now have a

very large pot of

spaghetti sauce

simmering on the oven.

Smells lovely. Oh the

joy of the day!

How are you

sweetheart? Would love

a short note.

Love you to the moon

and back

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Joy of the day, indeed!!  

Sands and drops of the ocean, Maggie---moons and stars.  And the Simple Savor, which is greater than all.