The Ball Diamond
This morning I went out early, as I normally do. Five a.m. The sun barely coming up now that it’s May. No coat. A warm morning already and I go and sit at Tim’s and have a cup of tea and bagel. I marvel at the spring. And I can’t wait till the afternoon when my grandkids are out of school, and I drive to the other side of Windsor to watch them on a ball diamond practicing. They were fielding balls, and hitting and running and working the cut-off. All the things I remember when my own children played this marvellous game. And the dust floated over the diamond obscuring their running shoes and the sun was bright in filtering through it all. The poetry on the diamond. And I had my camera. And here’s Sebastien, six years old, getting “the apron” down and scooping up this ball to fire over to first.