Day 44

If I had to use my hands to tell how old I will be this year, I would have to hold up all my fingers 5 times, and then one hand. It was 28F today and I ran 2.43km, not too far because Molly is limping a little, getting old.  (She is nearly 2 hands old.)

I took this picture of Tim and a nuthatch at the Ipswich Wildlife reserve, where there are little birds who will come and eat from your hand at certain places in the forest.  They are chickadees, tufted titmouses and nuthatches, but my favourite are the little nuthatches, because they have very determined diminutive faces and they beep softly to themselves and each other almost constantly, even when they are on your hand.  Feeling that delicate momentary weight, the slight claws perching, the sweet little voice, makes you smile inside and out.

This is the man I have loved for more than 25 years now, and it is Valentine's Day tomorrow, so my self-portrait is the card I made for that, as we don't believe in buying cards, you have to make one and write a poem inside.

So here is a poem that I wrote a long time ago for Tim:

You enter my pathways,
Opening doors, letting light.
Green eyes grow leaves.

Sunlight warms my stones.
Your questions are bright birds
Which fly from dark cages.

And I will answer you,
My lover, brother, friend
How I am twined around your hair like grass.

I will listen to your ears.
I want to find the bones
I see in the shadow of your fingers.

Here is a map of my body.
My blood is yours,
For years of moments