Well now, this is worth waiting for. We see the sunshine first thing. When we wake up. The upstairs rooms at the farmhouse are transformed by it. Suddenly, the day has energy. I have energy.
So before anything, I go down and bake granola. I know. A strange way to herald a sunny day. But it's the energy thing: you want to do it all.
Of course, we eat breakfast in the sun room.
After, Ed asks -- will you water some of the recent transplants?
I say -- I can't! Class to prepare! Work to be done! And it's true. I can't do much of anything in the morning. (Ed, quit being such a distraction!) Maybe admire the first of the daffodil blooms...
And I do want to leave extra early so that I can again bike to work. I mean, if not today, on this sunny (though cool) day, then when?
But in the early evening, I am home and outdoors again, fixing the damage of chipmunks (there are NO pansy blooms left after last night's pansy orgy), watering transplants, raking and clearing a space for an iris garden.
Spring was so long in coming and in many ways so much more difficult for me to navigate that I almost forgot how extravagant it can be -- how luxurious and electrifying. You may not think that there's magic in the air yet, but take a look at the daffodil and lily extravaganza exploding around the farmhouse.
Gorgeosity. Look hard. It's so there.