If I were a cat I would be curled up in one of those sunbeams taking in the warmth of the sun. I love this time of year when the direction of the sun shifts and casts warmth into my world. By the calendar, spring is still 27 days away, but nature has her own sense of timing.
Yesterday I ran some errands. The first thing I noticed was the yellow blooms on my forsythia. I have a special relationship with forsythia and a memory of my grandmother. I think I have mentioned those memories six or seven times in my blog. I just love those cheerful yellow blooms.
The daffodils have been blooming for about a week now. Sometimes they are in curated in little garden spots and sometimes in wild solitary bunches clustered in the woods near the side of the road. I will always think of Mary Smith when the daffodils bloom. ❤️
My camellia bushes are all blooming and yesterday I saw a few tiny azalea buds coming to life. The dogwoods and redbud trees will follow shortly.
My husband said he saw the first mason bee leave the bee house this week so spring is definitely in the air. Of course, just this morning I read about a new wave of cold weather on the way. At this moment it looks to move north of us. For those of you in the path, hang in there!
Spring always makes me think of Mary Oliver. Her ability to use everyday words to craft the remarkable has always amazed me.
How I go to the wood
Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.
I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.
―
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