This past week has been for planting seeds. With this season first thunderstorms and heavy rains, things have really began to thrust towards life, showing stems and brighter shades of green.
This past week has been for tidying up perennial beds. As we scratch and scuttle in the leaves and dirt, the chickens, outside of their barnyard winter digs, and now in their summer netting, which they can, and do get out of most days, scratch and scuttle right alongside us. They’re scratching for other things, but I think we do it with the same earnestness. Hoping, knowing, that under those leaves and taupe of last years floral, lies something vibrant, something alive. Bugs for them, perennials for me.
This past week has been for building. A skill not as innate as growing to us girls on the ridge, who are more at home tending delicate plants in the greenhouse, transplanting young seedlings, pulling weeds in the heat of summer, or gracious handing out the products of our labor. But a skill we are cultivating none-the-less.
Our greenhouse is packed from end to end, and it’s time to build a cold frame to toughen up our little dears before setting them out in the field for the season. Which is only a few short weeks away.
And on these days, when the sun shines, and the wind blows, and most trees have buds, anything seems possible. All the bulbs that were planted in the fall are coming up, the lilies are poking through, I can see the fuzz of the perennial poppies, small bits of mint, and a few muscari, so small, but as bright as the blue sky, deep down in the grass.
And everything feels so right. And I remember what got me on this path, what made me, when options arose, keep choosing what pointed me in this direction. Although it was often the unknown option. Maybe I didn’t have the skills or knowledge or resume or strength.
A friend of mine once told me, when I was at a time in my life unclear of which way to go, to close my eyes and picture myself waking up in the most ideal bed. and before i even opened my eyes, in that dream bed, think about what i smelled, who was there, what was the view. when i got up, what did i do first.
i think its a good exercise. what part of our days is exactly what we want to be doing. how often are we exactly where we want to be. how often do we think, each day, i am living my dream.
maybe the adjusts would be large sweeps, maybe they would be small. maybe they would be a change in perspective. we have to remember the reasons we chose to be where we are. are they still there for us? reflect. adjust. reflect. enjoy.
and some days i’m just happy.
like a spring chicken on a winters worth of kitchen scraps.