The Earth’s green skin is thickening up. Sometimes, it looks like a green haze rising up from the ground. Everyone is quickening. Sometimes at night when I go out to lock up the chickens and look at the sky for a minute, I can hear the craw-dads working with the water and mud under the field. The flashlight beam catching the shiny eyes of spiders on the move again, hunting their tiny prey in the dark. In the mornings, the birds songs have changed. They have more to talk about now, I suppose. It’s all very beautiful. It’s Spring.
Winter looks like it is holding still – but it isn’t. It’s like sleeping. There’s lots of activity, just a different sort, under the surface.
We fall into bed at the end of these busy spring days. Our skin radiates the warmth we collected all day in the sun. We have the kind of inevitable blisters that come before the callouses shape up. Our muscles are sore and our minds are tired.
But when we wake on a Spring morning, we are restored. The rough patches on our skin have diminished. We are hungry, for breakfast, and the day ahead. The tick-tock of the to-do list comes back to mind and we are set into motion for another day. Spring, unfolding its wings from its own winter’s sleep, is upon us.
All this, the beauty, the sore muscles, the busy minds, the bees and birdsong, the seeds, the sun and rain, the changes, the transition – can be as exhausting as it is wonderful. But our best hope is to embrace it. This is what love looks like right now.