A day when students slide into warm weather mode. Bare feet in the first photo, shorts in the second.
March is a new month for me at the farmhouse. I moved here on April 20th. I never experienced this cusp of spring period – the earlier wake up, the later sunset and... the first joy of this:
The desire to get going—to rake up the old leaves, to trim bushes, trees, to clear spaces – all that is so palpable, so real and suddenly – so close in time.
Evening. Ed heaves woodchips, raking them into spaces where we want to stifle weeds, especially the ever-threatening creeping charlie.
After, he does what I recognize as the farmhouse dusk pause. My grandma, back in Poland, took this same pause at the end of the day. To Ed, it’s nothing more than a moment with Isis. For me, it’s the most profoundly rewarding time of quiet. Ufff... Another day...
Ed plays volleyball tonight, I cook our Spanish favorite (from our January travels) – the poorman’s shrimp salad – filled with potatoes, so that it may stretch over several days.
I’m done with winter thoughts. From now on, I’m tracking the sprouting bulbs. Last year, I see that the first crocus bloomed on March 28th. This year? Oh, I think that any day now there’ll be that first flower.
