Wednesday, April 25, 2018

April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land I’m taken aback when I realize that two years ago at this time the lilacs were blooming. This winter really was what it seemed: long. Today, I’m going to

Monday, April 16, 2018

Spring is made of solid, fourteen-karat gratitude, the reward for the long wait. Every religious tradition from the northern hemisphere honors some form of April hallelujah, for this is the season of exquisite redemption, a slam-bang return to joy after a season of cold second thoughts. Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle So gradual is the

Sunday, April 15, 2018

The question is not what you look at, but what you see. Henry David Thoreau I see gray. Again. It could be—actually it is, let’s be honest—a tad discouraging that spring in all her warm and sunny splendour is so tardy this year. But yesterday I saw pea sprouts in someone’s plot at the community

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

That is one good thing about this world...there are always sure to be more springs. L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea It’s here. Beautiful, beautiful, full-of-promise spring. Time for garden planning, seed sowing, dirt digging, and down-on-the-ground picture-taking. The season of window opening, sunshine warming, and fresh air blowing has finally arrived. It’s spring. The fever

Friday, March 16, 2017

This is to say nothing against afternoons, evenings or even midnight. Each has its portion of the spectacular. But dawn — dawn is a gift. Mary Oliver, Long Life: Essays and Other Writings Dawn is, indeed, a gift and it’s coming later since we turned our clocks back last weekend. The time change is also