Spring comes in like a lion, goes out like a lamb. This is so very true on the coast of Nova Scotia. We flit from snow storms to bright days of sunshine where no jacket is needed to thunderstorms and remnants of high winds and the cool sounds of birds. I’ve been keeping the front door open more often, dreaming of the cricket sounds coming soon.
Spring gives me energy–this lion-thing. Agitation of life beneath the growing sun provides energy and laughter. I keep trying to return to running, but am still having problems with my left ankle. So I’m not sure how much I can run, but did do a mile and a half the other day on a trail next to a creek. The day was sunny, though it’s such early spring still that only a few buds have ventured forth in our flowers or trees. I see this changing any day now.
It has been slightly over a year since we came here, and a year ago it still snowed in late April, though by then it was fleeting and melting fast and we already had our first daffodils and forsythia greening and blooming.
At night we still light fires when it’s cold enough, and we still have half our woodpile left, plus two bundles of firewood in the garage for summer bonfires.
We’ve bought seeds, trimmed fruit trees, walked about the wet, squishy meadow, and had installed a platform for a beehive we’ll be keeping for a friends (hey, free honey!).
In the meantime, I’ve been writing 1,000 words a day, just Monday through Friday, on The Stolen Child, and really getting into it!
I speak in single lines this blog post, it seems, because there is so much looming this spring: the planting of more trees, the planting of our garden, the continued writing, the jogging, the getting out more, the opening of the house from the closed firelit evenings to the open winds and birds. My thoughts float in tangents.
I talk with family a lot, and my old high school friends. We talk of quilting, deviled eggs, gardening, knitting, and alpacas. We talk of Covid vaccinations, visiting each other, and all the glorious things we have to look forward to. I drink a bourbon on the phone with my brother, and he is excited about life. I talk with my kids, both of them doing really well and passionate about their interests, their lives, their partners, their news. I have good news to tell, but it has to wait!
Spring is the season of renewal, yet, I am all too aware that life has its downs as well as its up as I continue to grow older reminiscing about those who have passed away, people I love. All my grandparents: Mammaw, Pappaw, Grandmother and Bill, Grandfather and Jean. Uncle Harold and Aunt Helen. My dad. My second cousin Linda. One of my dad’s cousins and best friends, Buddy.
Told you I was on tangents today. That’s what spring does.
