Trestle Wind

indigo bunting visited briefly today, just long enough for us to identify it, then was off. our first.

one plum has decided to go for it this year, and is sporting pea-sized plumettes under its wilting blossoms.

walked by the old mills with the dog and the boy today, then onto the trail that crosses the railroad trestle. we watched the fish-scale pattern gliding over the surface of the water in the breeze. watched the baltimore oriole fly over our heads and on to the pines, kept an eye on the fisherman, so far below and downstream. the boy nodded off and i started to head home to study, then realized i needed to be on a trestle in the wind a little longer, and turned back to stand for a few minutes more.

he sleepily gnawed on my knuckle with his new tooth, a little rodent tooth sawing away at my finger, and woke himself up. we continued on.

the trees are such a display in the wind, each one contained within its own design, its own shape and shade, height, each with its own particular movement in the wind, its own art.