Where was the kitchen of the now-vanished farmhouse where the crockery and blue-and-white plates once were kept?
Against a cowl knit of thick-and-thin yarn – shards from the past. CB/MDK
What happened to the people who used these once-whole plates and crocks – the land still gives up evidence of their lives. The happily knitted cream-color cowl worn around my neck also serves as a hat when the weather turns blustery, and there’s much more walking (and discovery) to do. Now a map of sorts exists – sketches of the hidden springhouse of brick. What appears to be the source of the broke bits – may be the household dump. Brownstone steps, foundation size.
A white violet sniff.
The now-naturalized flowers include – daffodils. Day lilies. Grape hyacinth. My favorite – the tiny pansy-like faces of Johnny-jump-ups. Deep purple violets. They speak of someone long ago and (her) garden; those flowers – along with the buttercups that grow in a meadow – still give joy.