Tuesday, April 11, 2023

Reaching for the Light

Wood squill (Scilla siberica)

One day, there are piles of snow in the yard at least three feet deep, and I cannot get anywhere near the garden shed for white stuff and sneaky patches of ice. The next day, the snow is receding into the good dark earth, and tiny flowers are springing up everywhere, reaching for the light over their nodding, fragile heads. 

Grasses thrust themselves out of puddles in the park, and a few ducks paddle up and down the little creek among the trees. Everywhere, there is birdsong, each and every feathered singer in the overstory declaring its delight in the season.

It has been a long cold winter, and we thought it would never end. Now, we can hardly believe our good fortune, and every sunbeam, new leaf and tiny bloom is a gift. If I stopped to look at every one I encountered, I would never get anywhere at all.

At last, it is warming up here, and within a day or two, I may be able to get the shed door open and pull out my gardening tools. Can't wait to get my hands in the dirt again.

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