Spring (I mean late winter) is the ultimate reminder to follow through on promises. I’m not much good at that. I’m happy to start something – like a half a dozen drafts of blog posts – but not so good at following through (half a dozen drafts unfinished). Nature always fulfills her promise though even if it looks like there’s no rainy-way she’ll be able to. And every once in a while even I have it in me to keep my word. I’ve been promising for years to go back and visit friends and family in Seattle and my chosen flight flies Thursday – with me on it.
In the garden, as per usual, I am also making promises. While I’m away Z will get busy installing a window in the shed (he has no problem with follow through). And that of course means that this year, as soon as I’m back, I have no excuse not to follow through and paint it. I intend to hold me to it. And I’m saying it out loud – again – in hopes that another public declaration will fortify my typically shaky resolve.
I have also recently made a commitment to write a column – bi-monthly at least – for a local weekly. Which is cool but so far, harder to follow through with than I thought it would be. (You guys are much easier to write to. – why is that? ) And meanwhile, perversely, I’m finding it the most difficult to keep my promise to this blog. So in honor of spring’s promise I’m renewing mine. Whether or not I actually follow through.
On our walk this afternoon, Nino and I watched the first sailing lesson/race of the season in the harbor. He nudged me and said, “Check it out, sails look like crocuses. Crocuses look like sails.” Which reminded me: This little flotilla appeared the other day by our front backdoor as if they had been blown there by a favorable wind.
Spring has arrived at Champignon!
I know I’ve said this before – recently – on the other blob – but I totally heart spring the very best of all. I’m not sure I can quite explain it. Spring affects me viscerally with a blood thumping adrenaline junkie sternum grab. It’s the new growth that does it. I’m hooked like it’s all crack for my eyes and I can’t. ever. get. enough. It makes me wring my hands like when I windowshop shoes. I want to watch it like a movie. I want to memorize it. I definitely don’t want to miss a single second – that, in particular, is a torture whenever spring chores make me nappish.
Spring stepped up to Bristol’s door jam right on time for the equinox all nighter. I don’t have any early bloomers (besides chickweed) in my yard so Nino and I have been borrowing it from other peoples’ gardens. I think I might have to add some early spring to my garden plan – which, by the by, is all discombobbled from what Z and I were envisioning last week. I appreciate Rob’s advice (in a comment on the last post) to “live with a place for a while” and now that I’ve lived with stick outlines of beds for a week, I can be sure they’re not perfection. More on that later. Meanwhile Happy Spring!
(Are you as hooked on spring as I am?)