Within thirty minutes of spring's official arrival, I ventured out to see what evidence of the new season I could find around The Farm. With the exception of the crocuses, a sole daffodil has mustered up the courage to open and herald the journey toward greater light and warmth. The Farm tulips have send out healthy leaves to scope out when it's time for their buds to surface, and the lilies and peonies are just beginning to break through the ground, as if to test the water and decide whether to wait a bit for warmer days. Pushing out their delicate and tender green shoots, the lilacs seem tempted by a taste of spring, but years of premature leafing has taught them to take it slow, especially when they sense the briskness of the morning. (I hope!)
Grackles and red-wing blackbirds compete with the winter birds for oil seeds at the feeder, and I was delighted to see a little chickadee claim his/her space among the larger and more aggressive new arrivals. My feeder barriers, i.e., rows of thorny chestnut burrs below the feeders, still keep Clousseau, Cato, and company (much to their frustration and disgust) away from the farm feathered friends. The entire farm cat contingency who would LOVE a birdy breakfast, but nasty, sharp thorns in their paws have modified their desire to venture around the birds' prickly restaurant.
It'll be a weekend of tilling the recently turned compost into the earth and poking a few onions in the ground for good measure. I'm tempted to get my greens going, and if I can find a few broccoli and cabbage plants, the beds just might find themselves full.
The chubby, peaceful Goddess smiles today. In her, I see many women my age who are perhaps a bit larger and definitely softer than in their early years, but for whom the love of earth and life has never been greater.
Namasté....and...happy, happy spring!!