I call this room my studio; sometimes Doug calls it my office. It holds my desk, my art supplies, my craft supplies, much of my indoor gardening, and my writing chair. Builders and real estate agents called it the living room, a term that’s always puzzled me – living, as opposed to what? I love the beautiful light from these big windows and Doug preferred the basement for his woodshop, so the deskartcraftgardenwriting room is mine. I find much inspiration watching the change of weather, wildlife, bloom, and growth in this one little slice of view. This was my view yesterday morning, the flowers all inside, the snow lingering.

As I walked out in the afternoon, the ice at the top of the driveway looked like a much wider view from an airplane window, flying over Midwestern farms and lakes as winter loosened into spring.

On the other side of the driveway our Spring Lake has appeared as usual. This is where the snow piles up when Christen plows us out, storm after storm, all winter. Early warming weather melts the snow, but the ground stays frozen so the water can’t drain away. Nice little pond, but by the time the ducks come back it’s gone.

By dinnertime it was 52 degrees outside, and many more ephemeral lakes had appeared. The prettiest one is up the road where the pavement ends and the dirt road begins, changing the drainage picture somewhat – this little lake is even more ephemeral.

Then come nightfall everything froze again, and I retreated to my Tulip View. The tulips, a mix of past and present, are blooming and fading under the small string of twinkle lights I couldn’t resist leaving up after Christmas. I have friends who are impatient for spring, but I find I enjoy this up and back – it’s like saying to time, you think you’re going in just the one direction? Ha, Michigan has news for you. Time’s arrow deflected, for a moment, in its flight.