Do you see it, do you see it, do you see it? Two little lavender flowers in the ground reaching up to say hello? Could it be spring? I’m looking everywhere and I find them all over, little green buds, little flowers struggling to grow. I can’t wait for this season to burst open so that I can run around with dirt and plant Azaleas, hydrangeas, Yellow Twill Dogwood. I’m sniffing around like crazy but I don’t smell it yet. We’re planting lavender all over the place so we’ll smell it soon. Spring smells subtler than summer but nonetheless, intoxicating. We’re painting our window boxes and dreaming about geraniums and zinnias. Can’t wait until the grass is really green and there are Robins landing on the fence and bunnies making their way across the yard. I can’t wait until Chatter Creek is a Kaleidoscope of blues and greens, yellows and purples. Red leaves against the white fence will startle me, White roses dancing in the rain will thrill me.
Ah, spring. Shelley said it well…Oh, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind? It’s all poetry. It’s all there to become poetry. I am a lover of words, gardens and music. I am adrift in the yearning for beauty and art, landscapes that touch my soul. Don’t you know, I am brought to my knees by nature.
I await by the running water of my lovely Chatter Creek Cottage and I look for hints of it, I dream of short sleeves and cut off jeans and lazy days tasting a crisp white wine while the spring sun teases me and friends talk of barbecues and porch parties. It all beckons me. Oh, my God, bring it on; bring on that surge of life!
