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01/09/2004: "Outside"

It has been the coldest day of the winter, so far. Everything seems taut with the cold, clenched against it: the trees, the buildings, and all the old bones. There was a death and we had to open a spot in the memorial garden. I measured out the grid and marked the location. The ground was so hard I had trouble getting into it with a screwdriver. We went and got along cast-iron probe and clanged away at the frozen ground. A few inches down it wasn't yet frozen, and was even soft with the moisture from our uncommon rains this winter. Walking back to the building after we'd finished, I saw a phalanx of birds flying in and out of the trees, the old pine trees and two overgrown hollies. They flew back and forth without ceasing. I think they were having fun.