I am currently reading the book Local Wonders: Seasons in the Bohemian Alps by Ted Kooser. It was a book originally intended for my Gram, but she died just a few days before the Christmas she would have gotten it as a gift from my mother. Mum then gave it to me and it has been stacked in a pile of books ever since.
For some reason I had been reluctant to read it until now. It is the type of book that Gram would have loved. She would love the imagery and the descriptions of nature and she would feel close to the land where her daughter now lives (Nebraska). In some ways I feel Gram reading over my shoulder as I move through Kooser's illustrations and vignettes.
Mid-may, and all afternoon the goldfinches have been harvesting black dandelion seed, flitting from white puff to white puff, burning those little black pellets of coal. Last winter, they were all in khaki, wearing their army surplus overcoats. But inside each of them, through the winter months, one of last summer's dandelion seeds was slowly coming to life, and each breast wasbeginning to bloom like a bright yellow flower.
Gram loved birds and language and flowers. She helped me to love these things as well. I appreciate the joy she would have found in this book and I feel close to her and I thank God for goldfinches and dandelions and I miss my Gram.