Saturday, February 1, 2020

Signs of Spring

It’s a slow start today. Most mornings start slow this time of year. In the summer months I wake up to open windows, sunshine streaming past the lace curtains and this boiling blood excited to do everything at once. I want to do the chores, plant things, ride horses, run for miles, swim in rivers and fall in love. In the winter… Well, last night I made and ate a Hawaiian pizza and watched Netflix. Both have their merits, but I miss the part of me that buzzed in the morning.

But this morning there was bird song. Different bird songs. The kind of songs you hear when you have to check chicken butts first thing in the morning for pasty bums. The kind of whistles and calls that snap pea vines swirl around and banjo tunes are plucked with. It’s slowly becoming warmer, brighter, and better. I am slowly preparing this farm for another season of hope and work.