Continuum

The sun is shining beautifully today – strong and constant. If you stand very still and lift your chin towards it, your face will feel the full warmth of its glow, even though its not quite 40 degrees outside. RC is taking full advantage of that fact and his old brown body is totally stretched out in a sunny patch of lawn. The birds are bantering back and forth out by the feeders with such a fracas that they are almost drowning out the shrill challenge of the Blue Jays and the squirrels are chirping from their perches as they claim their territory.

I checked to find that my Bleeding Hearts are already two inches tall and the hydrangeas are beginning to bud out. There’s a lovely blush pink Peony just outside the front door and its new beginnings are reaching toward the sunlight as well. We are surrounded by wild rhododendrons which will put on their show in another month or so. They are such a beautiful sight, all thick and lavish with beautiful violet/pink blooms, some twenty feet high. They peep at us through the pines and fir trees as they sway in the breeze and then just as they are fading away, the domestic rhodies take over.

The Witch Hazel tree is in full bloom right now – the yellow blossoms are a welcome sight this time of year as it stands a lone sentinel surrounded by daffodils which are getting ready to burst forth with their own shade of yellow. The camellia by the front door has finished its blooms, but the ones on the hillside are just budding out.

My world is waking up from winter and the plants and bushes are calling me away from my cozy lair where I’ve snugged away these past months:

Come out, come out and spend time with us. We have scary weeds and grasses nipping at our ankles and we need to be tilled. It’s time for us to be fed and fresh black compost for our tender new roots would feel so good. We need to hear you singing and feel your touch as it tickles our branches and petals.

I find that I always want to wait until it’s nice and warm outside…that’s when I’m really in the mood to get out there and get my hands in the warm dirt. But no, now’s the time to dig out the old duck shoes, shake the spiders out of the garden gloves and gather together my weapons of war. The wheelbarrow will need a good squirt of oil, I’ll need to mix gas and oil for the tiller and I’ll be sorry I didn’t clean my tools better last fall, but I know the tune.

I always vow to do better with my cleanup work in the fall but so far I never have…and maybe never will. But after a week or so of devoting myself to the outside, no one will know the difference. My plants will beam and thrive with the attention, my fingernails will be dirty, my hands will be stained and my face will have that pink/red glow of the first taste of sun. Every afternoon when George gets home we’ll tour the outside so that I can proudly show him what I’ve accomplished and he’ll notice his list on the fridge (in my handwriting) will begin to grow.

…and the world turns…