My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Gawd, I finally get to go home. Clients came in today without appointments or appointments on the wrong day and I just squeezed 'em in. Heck, they're here, why not. Flies get in and zoom around bashing themselves against the windows. 

This morning I went to Seward Park and walked in the woods. I was late for work. I could hear a robin and a woodpecker. Trees stand so still all day. Without a real forest, there is nowhere to rest. I remember once walking in NYC, just after finding out that I was pregnant with my older daughter. I was floating along and I came to St Mark's Place where there is a little park, all fenced in. The trees were leafing out and there were a few tulips. Spring had arrived and I hadn't known. Where I had grown up, Spring had a violence, a tearing. Winter kept us prisoner for 6 months. Suddenly, there was the smell of mud. Everywhere. Trillium in the woods and crocus. And just as suddenly, all that clamor was over. Damp heat, mosquitoes and raccoons in the garbage. Summer was something you bore, like a bad cold. 

Sturdiness of the maple trees at the property line. Unmoving. Reference points.  Red cedars out here. And I know where the old growth ones are in the city. Not telling.