Today is the first day of spring. The sun is shining in a cloudless sky. Birds are singing, and our thermometer says it’s forty-eight degrees. The following poem from How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver describes a walk I often took when I was single. The route took me through a city park, across a bridge, and along the creek. If you click on the link below the poem, you’ll hear me play and sing a song I’m sure you’ll recognize. The link will be available for at least a few days. Happy spring!
A Spring Constitutional
In the early morning, a cold wind blows.
The weak sunlight from a hazy sky offers little warmth.
Despite the chill in the air, I’m glad to be out walking.
I smell fresh new-mown grass and hear bird songs.
In the park, a workman mows the lawn.
There’s no one else in sight.
I walk by the creek, hear its gentle babble,
the neighing of horses from a nearby veterinary clinic,
smell the manure.
My white cane rolls from side to side in front of me.
In the late afternoon, I traverse the same path,
relieved to be out in the fresh air.
I hear the cries of children from the nearby playground.
My stomach tells me I’m hungry.
I quicken my pace, eager to reach home.