The sun was out today in full force, making a temp near 60 feel even warmer, thanks to no wind. I put on my garden sandals and slopped around my muddy back yard checking on new growth of green stuff and replenishing the bird feeders. A couple of jonquils were opening up, and the mysterious lily-like things that I planted last fall and forgot what they were have emerged and are filling a corner of my garden They look quite dramatic already, and I hope that when they bloom I can identify them with the help of a catalog or a nursery expert. In the meantime, I love suspense. A pair of titmice landed on a backyard feeder, and the cheap plastic tube outside my office window has been alive with chickadees, English sparrows, finches and a few cardinals. They seem to be as elated about spring as I am. I have my 77th birthday this week and am dumbfounded and appalled that I could be this old. I certainly dont think that I look it (vanity helped by makeup). Thoughts of immortality vanish quickly. But cardinals and titmice, an exotic lilac with emerging blossoms, red honeysuckle vines putting out new leaves and all the other wonders of spring give me hope. Hope and joy. April is the cruelist month, T.S. Eliot, but it teases us just enough to hang on until May.
Posted on: Sun, 06 Apr 2014 04:02:47 +0000
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