From spring to summer, from one to two grandchildren, from Mount Desert Island to Tucson, from book to book, from old friend to new. Turning from one part of my life to another, isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?
One constant has been my love of nature. Humming when I’m in it, hearing birds, being quiet, stunned by new blossoms exploding in color. At age 10 — not realizing how much I would later revere flowers — I unraveled newspaper from Easter plants arriving at my father’s florist shop. No doubt that’s how that reverence began. But I didn’t know it then.
Nor could I have ever imagined leaving New England for Tucson, Arizona.
This morning’s nature walk took me to the Douglas Spring trail. Surprised last week by a slowly crawling gila monster and a fast-hopping Jack Rabbit, this week it was all about the flowers.
It’s a glorious day. Humming, I walk along the desert path. It’s a glorious feeling to have lived in two very different parts of the country. Ocean and desert swirl around the years.
Desert grasses may surprise my New England friends. Baby lupine are prolific today (sorry about the photo, but see the leaves?).
A young couple spots my hat and stops me on the trail. “Oh, we loved Thurston’s. We were there in September!”
“I’ll be there this summer,” I smile and tell them.
“Lucky you,” the woman replies.
“I know, it’s my other home,” I say. I’m always turning back again.