This morning I shaved down to a clean face. I needed to feel young again. To splash on what’s left of my Dad’s old Aqua Velva. Actually, it wasn’t his, it’s a very old bottle of mine, but it reminds me of him. As my face does, now that it is looking back at me from the mirror. Thank goodness that the cats and my phone still recognize me. The jury is out on the dog cause he’s still asleep. He’s prepared for my awkward changes though, I’ve done it before.
Everyone is different. I like the way things were and I like the way things can become. I struggle a bit from time to time with how things are at the moment. Thus it was time to shave. I don’t expect you to get it, I really don’t, because it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense and unpacking it isn’t all that necessary. It keeps me sane and happy and so I continue to read and write and watch movies and reminisce about the past. I continue to dream about the future. I continue to do the work, fix the broken, mow the grass, and pick the raspberries of today, this summer right now. What I enjoy most about the present is the time that I get to spend with my family and pets and the home that we have.
All around our back yard and the side of the garage that isn’t garden space, are a mixture of very old and twenty year old raspberry canes. Perhaps some of you saw a picture of them I posted on the What’s Up Ely Facebook page along with this poem. Perhaps it will be new for you. Since the beginning of Covid I’ve begun to savor small things. Some of them are mundane like the fact that Thursday morning is garbage day or just taking time to sit under the tree and look at the lawn for a while after I’ve trimmed and mowed it. Others are a bit larger like the gallons and gallons and gallons of huge raspberries that I’ve picked as the ripen overnight and indeed, over the course of a morning or afternoon. Hunting them isn’t much of a hunt, but the sense of accomplishment when all the ripe ones are picked is something I didn’t used to care about. It is a simple pleasure.
David, the dog, has learned to appreciate the low hanging fruit in every sense of the phrase as he picks his own from the bottom.
Raspberry Canes
These old canes Bent over with heavy fruit Were here before We bought the house. They’ve spread like the three of you. Putting down runners and showing new fruit.
Sweet among the thorns and an occasional stinging nettle.
My hands can contain none of it anymore; It all sifts through.
Like water dripping from the skimmer out in the Darkhouse on three feet of ice in January.
Us. Swimming a fish decoy we made in the basement of your youth.
Copyright Timothy James Stouffer #elystreetpoet 07202025 All Rights Reserved.
Summer is great for change because the sunflowers can grow a foot in a week and so can everything in your garden. Our cherry tree had small green blobs a week ago and not too many of those it seemed, but now, the fruit has filled out and is turning orange on its way to bright, ripe red. This rain will knock the rest of our roses off their thorny stems, but they were special for at least three weeks or more. During summer you can see all kinds of folks who return to Ely after years or even decades.
Hey, I just remembered, there’s more raspberries to pick, I gotta run.
