Because mostly I am profoundly grateful to be here, to have taken a leap and come back to the place I spent some of my twenties, and now, entering my sixties. To sit and watch the green things pop out of the ground, to learn that snowdrops are equipped with their own anti-freeze, to see the moon lift to full in the sky, to see it shimmer at half in the morning as it sets—all this fills me with gratitude. My mother got her vaccine earlier today which is such tremendous news, though she had to trek into the city from NJ to do so. Her biggest fear was the walk from the car to the Rite -Aid would prove to be too much, but it was only a block, and she could manage. My brother was there to help her, and at the drugstore, another woman told her she had a very good son, and that her own son would not even talk to her. “I told her I hope that would change,” my mother told me, then repeating the wish.

The mourning doves have started to drag a few twigs to start their first next of the season, though I don’t know if they will do much of anything this week. It is early for them to start. I too am eager to start the garden chores but know I must wait another month. I could start the sweet peas in pots, though I could probably just put the seeds straight in the ground if the soil thaws in two weeks. But I think I’ll try a few, and see what might grow.