Spring seemed late in getting underway, even for those of us who spent the longest, coldest weeks of winter elsewhere, far from snow and ice, but it’s making up for lost time now. Like a fresh, green horse not content to trot, the season has broken into full gallop. The speed of the succession of wildflowers in the woods takes my breath away. How can our memory-laden minds keep pace with so much newness? Can you see, in this picture of blooming pussywillow catkins, the snow shovel in the background? Waukazoo Revival, as I like to call it (one aspect of what I like to call the Northport Renaissance—feel free to spread these slogans around), has also shifted into a higher gear. Next door, at the new BBQ spot, the day arrived, the long-awaited Day of the Pour!
Tulips and jonquils of every variety are honking their horns in the May sunshine, but they are not telling you to drive faster. They’re suggesting you park that car and stroll at a leisurely pace, all around town, along the creek, down to the harbor. Take a good book with you. I’m a third of the way through The Gift of Rain and hoping Bruce will cover for me on the day the library book club (Wednesday, May 27) meets so I can join their discussion.
P.S. My apologies to the bookseller in Micanopy, Florida, whose business name I had misspelled in a January post (now corrected). That bookstore, well worth a visit, is O. Briskey Books.
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