Eleanor painted this a few Saturdays ago. I didn't help her or guide her hand in any way. She just sort of waved her brush like a master calligraphy zen lunatic, then squealed like a marmoset. "All done!"
As I type this, I look out my window at the endless parade of Iowans walking their dogs. Big ones, tiny ones...none of them, to my eyes, are as pretty as our Coyote In The Other Realm. To miss something/someone intensely is to measure the effect of their presence...and there is a good lesson in this.
Spring is sloooooooooooowly upon us here in the Land O' Maize. And I can see how & why people talk about the nasty, brutish winters of the midwest - it's not just the intensity. It's the duration.
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