Spring Afternoon

Sunday, March 1, 2009

The cherry blossoms are numerous now. The tree outside of the kitchen window, once bare and reaching out to the sky with it's stick arms, is bursting with tender green leaves. The birds, once out in the open with the bare branches, are hidden in the bushy foliage. I can hear their sweet song, chirping and chattering. I have taken to throwing our bread and biscuit crumbs out of the kitchen door, attracting the brave birds to our doorstep. One even hopped into the kitchen. I can never get the camera quickly enough. 


I cleaned out the mint bed Saturday morning. The earth was dark and damp, a layer of leaves mulching the tired bed. As I crouched down, hunting for earthworms for the compost bin, I noticed the earth teaming with life. It was alive with movement. In my stillness, I was able to enjoy the roly poly bugs, now interrupted, were moving quickly to cover themselves in the deep, revealed earth. Pincher bugs and potato bugs, that frightened me as a child, began making new tunnels. I felt sorry, disturbing their home. But spring brings renewal, even the insects must be renewed, even it if it hurts a little. Even if you are exposed momentarily, even if you want to scurry back into the deep, covered, comforted by the dark.

I feel as though I have been in the dark earth. Comforted by the heaviness of my blankets, like the dark, damp earth. The trembling I feel from the juicy beckoning of spring is shaking me loose of the earth that has been covering me. I want to scurry back under the covers. I do not want to be exposed. I have been resisting renewal. Watching the insects, once covered by mint gone to seed, earth still and packed by winter's wind and rain, were forced to find new paths. I suppose the spring is tearing away at me, exposing me to the warm breezes and bursting insides of trees and plants. Once sleeping, now jarred awake as Persephone makes her way back from the Underworld. Awake, my friends, for spring is on her way!

2 comments:

Kristin Lea said...

I totally love the wheelbarrow!

Liz Harrell said...

Beautiful words, beautiful pictures. I just adore this post!