Spring has sprung

Hour by hour now the stark, crusty greyness is beginning to leave the trees and shrubs and general look of our neighbourhood. Green things are popping out all over, fattening and squeezing from little bags that had seemed tight shut a week or so ago. Soon there will be snowdrops, crocii, daffodils, tulips, grape hyacinths, and the roses are getting organized, deciding which shoots the blooms will appear on later. Shortly the plum and quince blossoms will take over the yard, followed immediately by those on the apple, pear and cherry. One forgets how pretty it gets around here, just as one forgets how unpleasant the winter season had been. One can forget aches and pains too, by looking strongly ahead, by making plans and gearing up to do plenty of work in the yard. There will be hours of going about with a barrow raking up this, snipping at that until the new growth finally takes over and most efforts are pointless. Just leave the place to get on by itself, enjoy being alive with it all for a while.
The grass needs cutting, however; round and round I must go on the tractor mower, imagining that the field, here and there, has the feeling of a top class golf course. Dream on; at least it’s tidy, and anyway the formal wildness look is pleasing, and it will have to do as there’s only yours truly to do the work, not a bus load of hired gardeners.
It is very important to honour the seasons, to understand that winter provides spareness and passivity; spring, hope and desire; summer a sense of fullness and growing esteem, and autumn, gratitude and the willingness to let go.
Not a bad way to look at human life either.


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