Today the sun shone. The rain came later. And while the sun shone we took a long walk, down the hill and by the sugar house with steam rising from its cupola. We visited our neighbor’s horse and watched the stream run under the bridge. Snow is melting and the stream is loud and cheerful. We feel loud and cheerful too. We made it to spring and spring is finally winning.
The meadow is still covered with snow, but an island of lawn has appeared along with the muddy garden by the south side of the house. Elevenses on the patch of lawn included chocolate cookies and mint green tea, fresh from my trip to Montréal and the Kusmi shop. Ryan hung up the hammock—a true rite of passage to the outdoor life. In winter we sit at the dinner table during a snowstorm and one of us will muse about how long it will be until this day. This first day of tea on the lawn, and walks, and the door open, birds singing.
The wheelbarrow made its first appearance. Also the pruning shears. I cut branches of forsythia to force in the house. Then spent a blissful hour clearing stalks and debris from the garden, raking it smooth and identifying the things pushing up from the earth—Virginia bluebells, muscari, daylilies, sedum. Delphinium, peonies and others are still hiding out of sight. The daffodils and crocus are in bud and blooming. The bluebells and muscari will be next. And then the inevitable torrent of blooms will come as spring gives way to summer. For now this little trickle of color and fresh air is more than enough.