And first off Tess Taylor’s “May Day” poem…
They go, the early flags, the gory maples—
so too the daffodils & Lenten roses.
Other petals swirl & nights warm.
Buds thicken and cast shadows:
in a thunderstorm
I almost forget the ice that was.
Narcissi suckle watery paths;
meadows heap up emerald masses.
How green & I want to delight
except this undertow—it pulls so fast
passing before I recognize it—
like souls in Dante who can’t see the present,
white lilacs curdle in pre-summer heat.
The parade I barely noticed was beginning
is already halfway down the street.
The poem perfectly captures the feelings I have as Spring progresses into May – that sense that it is all happening too fast and will be over before I’ve had time to hold fast like Faust.
But Mayday is a day for celebration, despite, and in spite of this year’s Covid-19 lockdown. As a consequence our skies are less polluted and so blue that my camera exaggerates and I have to tone the hue down in Photoshop, birdsong can be heard from far away and the need for daily exercise gives us time to stop and stare. Here there are so many paths to explore and wildflowers to admire, even the humble dandelion.