Morning sunlight.
Goodness, do I hear lots of bird song this morning! So beautiful. Such a harbinger of Spring.
When I hear it, my shoulders drop. I smile. I feel like I’m being let out of prison. I’m not exaggerating. Though I love being in my house, the absence of bird song, of working outdoors (other than shoveling snow), of the kind of connection I feel when both indoors and outdoors are part of my life, really wears me down. I feel hopeful again.
Spring means more to me with each passing year. Yes, I know that it will rain a lot. The ground will be muddy. I don’t care. I’ll begin to see the rebirth of my gardens and of our woods. I’ll be able to walk around, noting signs of life. I’ll start to get my porch back together for another three seasons of outdoor living. No seed sowing until May 1st, but I’ll be planting my impatiens and my hanging pots in the meantime.
Oh, it will be heaven.
This is that strange time in our landscape when there are big swaths of brown – and even green – grass showing. When the garden is no longer covered in snow. At the same time, there are big piles of snow along the driveway and in all those spots which became deposit zones for freshly shoveled snow. It’s a graphic display of season-straddling.
I have some errands to run today and some chores to do inside. But I can open the windows and air out the house while I’m doing them.
How is the weather in your neck of the woods?
Happy Thursday.
