Sit Spot Days 22 and 23

Sun Apr 5 (Day 22). 10:30 PM. Chilly night, stars out. Big Dipper has moved up to the top branches of the maple, and the orange/white star that was on the horizon is caught in the beech. The tail of the Big Dipper points to that star. The moon is fuller, over my right shoulder and my left knee casts a sharp shadow. Just after I sit I hear a slap on the water near the beaver dam. Beaver tail slap. Did it notice me all the way up the hill? A minute or two later it is repeated. On the other hand, if it's not me triggering the alarm, what is? I wonder if a coyote would take an interest in me. Woodcock peeping off and on. Peepers constant. A bit later, from the other end of the pond, more slapping. Maybe they do it for fun. Must feel good. This night is mistier, and not as darkly magical as the other night. A bird is twittering in the dark.

Mon Apr 6 (Day 23). 5:30 PM. Downpour. Steady, heavy rain. lower 40s. I take a large umbrella and it feels awkward. I stare at the red trees across the pond through the rain, which is marching in great columns down the pond. But first I lean down and greet my purple flower, which has opened: 6 petals and a yellow center, which sticks out a bit. So it's not a 'bluet', which has four petals. I think I liked that word, I've been using it for these little flowers for a few years. It looks familiar, like I've looked it up before. The rain is noisy on my umbrella and everywhere else. No peepers, no birds, no insects, no water fowl. Just heavy rain. I ponder the grass. There really is a lot of it, this was field and not long ago. All the other plants are more recent invaders. It all looks similar, soon I'll learn a bit about grasses and give it a name. I ponder the shades of green around me, dominated by the grass. Notice another shoot at maybe 6 feet, because it's a different shade of green. Notice my 3 leaved strawberry like plant, the leaves coming from the base look like what I think of as eglantier, the wild rose that is pretty aggressive around here, taking up residence in many places and being unpleasantly prickly. These are just a few little leaflets, an inch or two long, but I bet that's what it is. The water is ponding in the track in front of me, the 'lower driveway' as we call it. I wonder where the water goes, and tune in, and look at the beech, where the leaves are thicker underneath, and all the seedling maples are growing, and it's as though they say to me: we capture water. We are the water storers. Reminds me that the neighbour across the way complained this morning how their lower lawn is soggier since the new houses were built across the road, up the hill from their land. We capture rain. The rain is still marching down the pond, looking purposeful.