Scenes from the Market

I took these photos (all altered a bit) Saturday at the Madison Farmers Market.  It was mobbed, like a rock concert.  We shuffled along in the sunshine, ogled the tulips bloomed around the square, and blue sky reflected in the bank building windows, bought bakery (apricot and date bars), cheese, and a pot of parsley.  

That's all to report.

My May Garden and a poem

manipulated photo of my daffodils and Virginia bluebells

I love sunny May mornings, every one bringing new flowers to my shady garden. The bloodroot is finished, but the bluebells are ringing, and the lily of the valley is getting ready to bloom. I'll have to dig around for the trillium - it's there somewhere. While not so showy, the catnip at the back of the border on the sunny side of the house is fresh and pungent, making the cat's mornings happy, too.

Birth

by Charyl K. Zebfus, 2009 Wisconsin Poets Calendar

There are too many seeds

to break through the soil:

too many larvae

to spin their fine wings;

too many fledglings

to fit in the nest.

Yet nature continues

to swivel, dropping

another myriad.

It looks like bounty,

but rather, is miss,

miss and sometimes

hit. A messy

endless birth,

each living thing

spewed into carnal

form, an

individual

groping for its

infinitesimal

chance.

Uncle Gene

Ralph Eldo Pierce and his brother Gene Earl Pierce, 1931

Gene and Ralph by the corn crib on the farm in Sugar Creek, Wisconsin

Gene, Earl (their father), Ralph, 1947, on the farm

Uncle Gene in Korea, 1951

Pierce men, 1960

Gene Earl Pierce, 1926-2009

I mentioned yesterday that my only uncle, Gene Pierce, died in his sleep yesterday.  He was 83. Gene was my dad's older brother.  When they were younger I didn't think they were anything alike, but after Dad died and Gene lost weight I was struck by how much he looked like Dad, and like Grandpa Pierce.

Gene graduated from Elkhorn High school, and attended Milton Collage, where he played football.  After graduation, he served in Korea, then came home and married.  He lived most of his adult life in Columbia, South Carolina, and acquired a Southern accent that amused me when I was a child.  He had a beautiful voice, and I remember that when Dad died in 1983, Gene sang at the funeral.  He worked for a candy brokerage firm, and when we were kids he would pack big boxes of samples for us at Christmas.  It's a wonder I grew up with any teeth at all.

Because he and his wife and son lived so far away, and my family didn't like to travel, we only saw him when he came north.  But he always was good about keeping in touch with us, and with his childhood friends.  The past few years he was a great source of information and stories for me, and was generous with old photographs.  I will miss him and his memories.