no direction home

The light is stretching, the days are longer and the road cycles daily between squelch and firm. Maple sap is flowing and all of a sudden there are a million possibilities - the garden, the studio, the bakery, the summer. Panic sets over me as it does every March and I start out along this place I am so familiar with. How do I decide? And I walk and walk. How do I chose? And I walk and walk. I see my shadow stretching across the road and into the hedgerows.

The road gets wider every day. There are still banks of snow in some of the shady spots and the dog walks along them as if he is walking a balance beam. I am patient. I wait for him to sniff and dig a hole big enough to stick his head into. He keeps his head in there for a long time and then pulls it out and looks surprised by his surroundings. He does this over and over as we make our way. I walk beside my stretchy shadow self glad of the sun, the mud and the widening road and hopeful once the sap has finished following my way will be on more solid ground.