Friday, March 6, 2009

March then, drink!

Spring has sprung in a mighty little way...the lettuce and radish seeds planted in manic cold February- have germinated.

This is not headline news, no more than a ghaspy whisper was uttered when I came upon life coming to life- there in the tiny fragile stems supporting the first minute leaves of what is to be nourishment by Easter time- comes a hopeful sign.

This is no silent spring, pray we never know that kind of solitude- the birds have gathered to join in the chorus-

"The seeds have sprouted, life goes on!"

Everywhere and under there, come the signs, the songs, the assurance of hopeful days, stacked up-one after another, of newness and freshness and alive- be alive. And the poet in me awakens, refreshed- "March then, drink!" I say.

From the humble beginnings of a straw bale nursery comes life, in a green minor way-the struggle is over for those tiny seeds- see now how life bursts forth!

Hear the chirps -a liquid language of the feathered things, feel the lightness of sunlit rays, smell the scent of rot and decay made new in the black dirt's soily perfume. Look there in the last light of this new day, how beautiful it is to behold, how wonderful to acknowledge-

all is well...

For too long I have felt parched by winter's fast- a great thirst finally quenched by the champagne of spring, bubbling up and over the thawing brim of earth-

Is this not the tonic of life?


troutbirder said...

Glad to hear about the green sproutings but... that "fire in the sky" pictures is something else!

Jane said...

Congrats on your garden. That is one of the things I miss the most about not being in a house or at least having a large back porch - no veggies around here. I can't even manage to get herbs to cooperate in the downtown condo!


TatteredSpinner said...

You say it so well! It is seventy degrees here with a beautiful fresh breeze going, and I had so much fun transplanting my seedlings! It's here, it's ready, and I feel like my garden is telling me, "Go, go, go!! Move, move move!!!"

Li'l Em said...

Darlin! EXACTLY!

It's 78 degrees at the moment and I am sitting on the porch swing, wiggling my toes.

My dog is digging up whatever garden there briefly was.

But my heart is in the right place. And so is yours!

Jayne said...

Indeed, and it's what makes the winter worth tolerating... the promise of new life and new growth. It would not be nearly as exciting were there not times of cold and starkness preceding. Reaching towards the sun, leaves outstretched, the earth awakes...

LOVE that sunset.... ahhhhh. :c)

truewonder said...

On the fire in the sky, aren't I the luckiest thing to notice such occurrences...I ran a mile a minute to grab the camera to capture that sky.
The irrestible pull of the garden, the earth, whether you're in the city or the country- it truly is an intoxicating time, spring. Thanks for the exactly Em, I'm hardly ever exact...more so apt. And wiggling one's toes at this time of the year is a great exercise in simple freedoms, like transplanting tender seedlings and having fun and conversations with the garden. Good for ya!

Shady Gardener said...

What a great day that you posted and shared. I don't have enough sun for growing a lot of things, but I really think I need to try more outdoor seed starting next Winter. (Without leaves on the trees, I get much more sunlight in the winter!) When did you begin the work with the bales and windows? (Do you have plexiglass in the windows instead of glass?)
Thank you for visiting me. I look forward to returning the visit often. :-)

truewonder said...

Shady G.
Bout three weeks ago, I believe on the planting of the seeds, and a week prior on warming and working the ground. Those windows are just that, glassed old storm windows. Stawbales are good insulators, sometimes too good...I have to occassionally lift the sides up so my little tender plants don't get fried. My philosphy falls under the KISS method, more often than not, it works out.