The rites of spring

No not those rites maybe just a ritual. A young lady who's name is Sabri comes to visit with me the first day of nice weather . She spies me in my garden and out she pops from her dad's van to chat. When she first started this it was shortly after my heart attack and subsequent surgery. The first time the question was how is your heart? Over the years she has lost the innocence of youth and has progressed to May I ask about your health? I tell her storied of the ant and the cricket and I try to portray a grouchy old man when I tell her stories she laughs and sits waiting for the next. I ask her when she is going to start driving and with a funny face will tell me I have not yet master my bike yet. She has great intierest when I pratice she wakes almost every morning early to come and watch.

A call will come for homework or supper and she will shout back asking for five more minutes.

I have started my gardens and cleaned up some what of the drive way, my hands are dirty but that is just a regular day. The smell of growth and wet ground is in the air, I know that summer is almost here because I have had my first conversation with Sabri all is good in the world.