I can't walk outside without being accosted by house sparrows and their first crop of offspring chirping from their carport nests. Or, walk too close to the front porch and upset the newly wed couple of house finches who decided to build their first nest in the wreath on house and who are mad at me for getting too close. Screeching is ok, but the dive bombing has got to stop!
Nature is just one bud waiting to pop open after the next. Dogwoods are showing a bit of white off in the woods and the first azalea opened today, with a host more all set to follow over the next four weeks. Everywhere I look nature is alive and bursting with life. It's that time of the year when my faith in a greater power is restored. Forget those painted eggs and give me a bursting bud any day to remind me that we are not all there is, and that "someone" with a bigger plan got it right. We are just the stewards.
I spent some time today cleaning out the old leaves from the helebores and weeding the vegetable garden-to-be. Both yucky jobs, but the sort that immediately show results and tell you that the time was well spent. Under the mature helebores there must have been another million babies, and under all the grass in the vegetable bed were wee lettuce leaves - yet more proof of the annual rebirth of all green things. And, enough mature spinach for dinner tonight to remind me that there are those things - like the fish in the pond and the spinach - that lie low and make it just fine thru the hard days of winter. I'd like to think that I am like them, too.