Dear Curiosity Journal,

This morning I called my dad for back up. The sap boil must go on and also the gardening and grant writing, so I’m grateful he agreed to come spend the day with the boiler, stoking the fire. I walked out to thank him between Zoom meetings and budget edits, and that momentary respite on the sunny hillside, giving my dad a big hug, filled me with my daily dose of happiness. He shared this poem he wrote in the woods as well as these photos. He also texted it to his friend, who accused him of stealing it from me! HA!

Maple !

Quietly the sap of sweet spring longs for the lips of knowledge passed by ancestral minds! Trees bleed their blood and give a small portion to man’s tooth of sweetness growing and giving in the simple pleasures of time to heal with smiles! Maple, the scent of drifting vapor through the forest and wings of the migration flurries with a whisper! Northern slopes holding the white scenery, obscured from the prying sun, that feeling of Mother Earth astounds the body and senses with awe! As the frost lingers on with its futile cold grasp and succumbs to the heat of the orb, leaves on the floor rustling in gyration to songs of the gusts, worms wiggle unaware of the robin’s presence and time is alive! Syrup bubbles and turbulence changes it to a golden light liquid and taste of the tree’s honey! Enjoyable epic tranquility palate!

~Joy & Joe Miller