There was a day recently—in the last couple of weeks?—when spring just sprang. (I might’ve pinpointed it exactly if I weren’t so easily distracted, lazy.) Energized, I rode home from campus through the scent of it, the sky of it! I thought of my family in Indiana, Kentucky, and Ohio, trudging through blizzard and deep freeze, and I longed to export some of the green. Daffodils and crocuses and tulips and irises sprouted—and even began to bloom—all along my route.
Beside myself with glee that crocuses were spontaneously blooming bright purple in front of our own house, I set to work in the garden on Saturday. I moved mounds and clumps of wet maple leaves to liberate the bulbs earnestly budding beneath. I found a huge earthworm, dubbed him Big Ben, and squealed with disgust and delight as I transported him to lord it over the worm castle that is our compost pile. I poked and hacked at this larger of the two piles (count them!) and marveled at the heap of black gold that had magically formed under the surface. I checked my prune job on the rosebushes (three potted in large barrels and two planted in the ground) and was relieved to find them budding. Then I sat and stared at the bare vegetable beds and the empty greenhouse and tried not to feel so intimidated.
Here is a photo of my strikingly beautiful sister-in-law Jen. I fell off her horse when I was 10. Now she and my brother Jim are expecting a baby daughter soon!
Well, we’ve finally got spring here as well! Today Michael and I played tennis, or at least something slightly resembling tennis….the only bad thing is that I can’t always enjoy fresh spring air coming through the windows because stupid college kids like to smoke right outside our window.