Rarely does the first day of Spring actually feel like the first day of Spring, but it’s happening this year. Just this week there are brown buds opening to the softest greens, early bulbs breaking through winter earth, morning air sifting in through still-bare trees, sharp on the skin but gentle on the spirit
Crows hold cacophonist chorales in mighty columns of poplars along the Little River. Killdeer skip along the sandbar, the Great Blue Heron lopes upstream just above the water, the Barred Owl watches from above, just waiting for everyone else to settle down
I’ve had a couple of realizations this week, the first being that my left knee is not going to sustain these walks through the golf course. They’ve been wonderful, they gave me confirmation about getting the second surgery – a little taste of what it will be like to be a fully functioning biped once again
The second awareness was that this taking daily walks is actually a winter luxury. When our Earth Mother tilts her head toward Old Man Sun, it is then time to turn those hours into digging in the dirt and shoring up the nest
Tomorrow I shop for serrano and celebrity, chives and tarragon, strawberries to fill in for the ones that fell victim to my inattention as the campaign heated up last fall, maybe a nice red grape vine
Also, another gutter diverter for the front set of rain barrels, the back ones already full. More lavender flowers and muslin bags to be ready to pack the sweaters away. Now, I love my sweaters, but I also love the day I tuck them away in their tubs. The lavender will keep them safe and will great me next fall when I come seeking their comfort. For now, tomatoes and peppers will rule the day, omelets and pico de gallo hot on their heels, sweet basil, the queen of herbs, crowning the glory that is summer. Hold on, we’re coming.