The Year's At The Spring

Spring has sprung! We can usually count on it staying warm after Easter and it's right on schedule this year. The birds are back and a wren built a nest in the wreath at my front door. The grass is growing and badly needing a mowing---which is expected to happen this evening. The garden is planted and half of it is seeded with grass. 

This is the fifth time we cut the garden in half. Two people don't need as much food as the eight that used to eat at our table. There are so many produce farmers in the area that it doesn't make sense for two old people to plague themselves in a garden. Let the young farmers who have the ambition and need the money raise the produce. All I want in a garden is a few rows for fresh eating in season.

I like living in a place with four distinct seasons and enjoy the benefits of each one, but I think spring is my most favorite season. It's the reward for having survived another winter and the promise of good things to come. October is beautiful with the fall foliage but there's a hint of sadness because things are dying and it's a warning of the cold winter just ahead. Spring shouts a message of new life and hope for the future.

The year's at the spring,

And day's at the morn;

Morning's at seven;

The hill-side's dew-pearled;

The lark's on the wing;

The snail's on the thorn;

God's in his Heaven— 

All's right with the world! 

Robert Browning