Monday

So, you think you've got troubles? How would you like to be a living being with radiant feathers, virtually announcing to all who want to eat you that you are there, available for consumption? Or, how would you like to be a black and white cat (aka Pancake), who has to fight to get close to a food force (us)? So that you show up for your meal not all neat and pretty, but with gashes to your face and blood dripping into the dish? 

We live in the country and we see plenty of this -- the fighting spirit that keeps animals alive, mostly, but not always. A cold day for you means you have to reach for an extra scarf as you walk to the bus stop or your car. A cold day for Pancake means that there's little escape from it. You just have to be cold. 

Spring is the season of birth, which means that predators are especially aggressive as they strive to feed their new families. I get it. It's the way life continues on this planet. Every nature film we watch is filled with the challenge and horror of survival (or not). Still, as the hawks once again circle overhead, and our new young chickens display their innocence as they strut into the open field (so visible!), I have to say, it can be a very scary time for so many animals! 

At the same time, spring is most assuredly a time of joy. In my walk to the barn, I hear the song of house sparrows, American robins, blue jays, European starlings, and northern cardinals. Red-winged blackbird, black-capped chickadee. All that, on one morning walk!

(out they go, the three youngest -- always on the run!)

(ever expanding patches of flowering crocuses, as well as the beginning of Lenten Rose blooms)

Breakfast is late. Maybe it's the time gallop, maybe it's a Zoom call with my Polish pal, maybe it's that Ed is feeling sleepy this morning. No matter. Eventually, we eat.

Today turns out to be a Zero day. Meaning -- no grandchild duty. Their school is closed, their parents have taken charge. Add to that the most beautiful weather day yet -- mostly sunny, with a high of 63F (17C). I propose we seize the day and do a bike ride. A longer one, to Paoli. Google tells me that's an hour and five minutes on the bike trails. We're pretty good to keeping close to Google estimates. 

However...

The wind. Oh, the wind!

The ride is lovely, but even on my electric bike, it is brutally tough -- into the wind! We go over the estimate by a full ten minutes, panting!

 

 

 

(Once there, we pause at Seven Acres Creamery for a pick-me-up.)

On the upside, the ride back has the wind on our backs. We cut the estimate by three minutes! Even with the pauses to, say, take a photo or two.

The leap into longer days does mess with your view of the world. You suddenly feel that much closer to all that's starting to grow outside. Winter weather may come screaming back at you (last year, we had a heavy snowfall in April), but still, it's a passing event. Underneath it all, there is new life. There is stuff that thrills you. A plateful, no, a world full of great loveliness to discover, in due time.