It’s gorgeous outside, the start of a stretch of warm sunny days that we could only pull out of our imaginations before they started. Shivering in spring, waiting, watching, hoping for this to finally happen. Thinking there had to be a end, but not really believing it would happen.
Change of scenery
These are the days that will change the landscape, opening up the leaves, shedding the winter browns, and blahs, brightening our outlook.
Overnight it will suddenly green up as if the scenery in a play was changed. Cue spring, it’s her time to perform, and what a show she is going to give us.
Spring turns so fast here, even if it’s been late in starting, and there is a rush to garden, to clean, to organize. It has to be done now, before it’s too late, once the garden starts to grow, and the heat sets in it’s too late, and too hot to prune, to rake, to move plants.
We are going from what seems like a never ending stretch of white and brown to green, almost overnight.
It makes me want to savour each moment, taste it on my tongue, stand in the fields and gaze upwards until I am dizzy with blue sky. I want to be overwhelmed with emotion when I hear the birds sing, see the sun slither through the fir trees first thing in the morning, grasping at the newly green grass, eager, and hungry to start the day. I want to fully immerse myself in nature, delight in the sight of growth.
Saving these memories in my brain. There will come a time when the novelty of warmth runs off into a hot summer night, like a cat sprayed with water. And I want to remember the freshness, the newness of spring, not the soggy kitty.
The spring fight starts
The dandelion wars are underway now, yellow blossoms perkily jumping up out of nowhere.
Determined to blossom and spread their seeds. Gauzy helicopters blowing in the breeze swaying merrily as they seek to populate as much new territory as possible. It’s a all out fight with them, as I cut, destroy, pluck, all natural intentions only equalled by their best effort to thwart me.
Yes they are pretty, yellow, cheery… until they become the entire lawn, and then when the summers heat destroys them, nothing but barren patches of sadness.
The prettiest little purple violas are blooming in between the blades of grass, and I am overjoyed to find a few volunteers in my lawn, I’ve waited a long time, coveted them hoping to see if they found our yard habitable. They love the dry spaces where the sun shines, and the sand from the road accumulates.
When I walk the country roads, I lurk under the lilacs soon to be scattered with leaves, peering into neighbouring yards, camera poised… peeping lilac looker, watching for buds. Watching the dead stumps of half fallen trees to see if a woodpecker has taken up residence.
Birds cloaked in black scold us, demanding we walk further on before stopping to take photos, some peer with golden eyes, and some flash wings smeared with red feathers. They are all beautiful, elegant as a frond of softly swaying grass. Their song echo's in the water filled ditches that only a month ago held ice. ‘
Sheep call early in the morning, cows demand hay, sun glides down the pavement, and the mountains have almost shed their snow.
Spring might have shown up late, but she has made up for it.