May is white clouds behind pine trees
Puffed out and marching upon a blue sky.
May is green as no other,
May is much sun through small leaves,
May is soft earth,
and windows open to a south wind.
I found this poem torn out of a magazine and stuck in my mother’s notebook about gardens where she had painstakingly copied out poems about gardens and bible quotations and other quotes.
Also stuck in it was this photo:
Her mother and grandfather are on the right. They are visiting their relatives (the Wheeler-Rand-Smiths) who owned the farm. My mother is the little dark-haired girl with the baby carriage and her older sister Susanne is to the right. I don’t know whose baby my grandmother is holding, because her youngest daughter was born in 1933 and this must be 1928-29, judging from my mother’s age (3?). The other women and the blonde children are members of the family (the Frohawks) who lived on the farm and farmed it.
My mother spent her summers on this farm in North Charlestown, N.H. and, boy, did she love it and the Frohawks. At that time, the farm had been in her family for 150 years. We heard about it all the time growing up. I would have liked to spend my summers there, but it had been sold after the war and was gone with the wind.
Anyway, also tucked into the notebook was this cartoon, which I am sure I had sent her.
It is still my mantra. So have a pious, thrifty, hardworking day…and weekend!