Spring has made her début for 2007.
Windows have been thrown wide in order to usher in the fresh air throughout the day and there is a long-awaited beauty to each crispy March morning as placid birdsong rouses me from my slumber. Tiny red leaf buds hug the branches of the maple tree and I long to see the dark emerald leaves unfurl from their natural cocoons.
The robins shall make an effort to nest under our deck before long. The cardinals, gaily red and black, have treated us to their own whimsical song as they flash their plumage while at the bird feeder. My doves have returned.
I stroll past my flowerbeds and relish glimpsing the first tiny blades of crocus poking up from the red mulch. My dianthus did not survive entirely and I find myself perusing my seed and plant catalogs in enthusiastic anticipation of once again getting my hands into the dark, moist soil.
There are a myriad of projects that must be done before Spring breaks fully. I must replace mulch, and weed out or cut back dead plants and limbs. The back deck must be sanded and refurbished. Yard furniture must be washed. I shall hang the wind chimes and place the sculptures once the weather warms more (we expect some snow on Saturday) and I nearly dance at the satisfying thought of setting up my fountain in the front yard.
Spring is my renaissance – my time to shrug off the aches and pains in order to commemorate the end of another winter. Spring is hope and promise. It is my favourite time of year, next to Fall. I drink deeply the draught of wholesome air and my heart rejoices.
(The photograph, regrettably, is from last year. My handsome Better Half was tending to the shrubs and tiny trees.)