Life on the Edge

William Stafford came to mind today as I was having some difficulty feeling up to the task of resolving a design problem concerned with plant stands for flowers and herbs in the new conservatory off the sun facing side of the house. Years ago in North Carolina while fielding questions from the audience after a poetry reading of his work, someone asked him how was it that he was able to write poem after poem everyday. Stafford's response was that, like everyone, he woke up some mornings and knew that his genius had stayed asleep. On these days, he said, he continued writing poems, but lowered his expectations. I simply put down my tools. And allowed the sweet fragrance of this week's first lemon blossoms to ever bloom at Windgrove carry me into contentment. I then thought of Stafford's poem, "Yes". "It could happen any time, tornado, earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen. Or sunshine, love, salvation. It could, you know. That's why we wake and look out -- no guarantees in this life. But some bonuses, like morning, like right now, like noon, like evening." Like this lemon blossom.