Bats, Bumblebees and Ants

Yesterday evening 

I took a walk in the inverse direction from that which I normally take.

Now descending into the valley,

climbing la falaise,  all the while witnessing the river glistening below

 where the golden bronzed hue of last year's oak leaves shimmer in setting sunlight.

This path took me zig-zagging through the village, 

past the house where friends are going to live, 

down to the chateau, 

along by the river, 

where here I come to the mill, 

where here I stand and hear a rushing river, 

marvelling as it flows, 

mesmerized by frothy scum heading downstream 

to pass stacks of tree debris piled high in twisted mangles, 

wedged between trees that stand with heads aloft, 

not yet victims to pounding elements.

I collect a trophy from the river sand 

banked onto the bank with flotsam and jetsam of branches in various stages of river decay. 

This trophy is a very straight six feet long branch, 

useful for a tomato plant stake, 

too long and heavy as a walking pole.

Not joy to see teeny weeny ants on my kitchen floor 

but oh, how I welcome bees with different coloured bottoms,

not on my kitchen floor 

but visiting the purple flowering plant in my garden. Its name I do not remember.

Joy to see bats at dusk as moonlight shines. 

I leave my courtyard light on, door open, as it is warmer than inside 

just for a while,

 before I light a fire to keep me warm throughout the coming night.

Joy to see a newly-mown lawn making visible clumps of white violets and purple, 

leaves of cowslips a little late becoming into flower.

It may get colder again, so shall wrap up the camellias.  

My mother spoke to me of snow falling.  

She was surprised to know today I have Spring!