No, it’s definitely a groan. And not so much the “just-out-of-bed-but-not-yet-caffeinated” groan or the “I-didn’t-know-my-knees-could-be-so-stiff-from-sitting” groan age has brought to me. It’s the kind of involuntary groan of pleasure one would make after waking up from the best nap ever, on a sunny day, feeling perfectly refreshed and ready for anything.
After the long semi-stasis of winter, as the days warm a bit, and (more important) the length of the days increases, it’s as if some giant inertia in nature suddenly reaches it’s precise tipping point and gently, slowly, begins to roll in motion. Though the weather has been fairly volatile this month (“, in like a lion, out like a lamb”) the dynamics of creeping into spring are subtler.
One day I’m thinking things in the garden have been pretty settled and relatively undemanding, and then, suddenly I realize I have to start spreading compost, early season organic fertilizer, cultivating, pulling massive amounts of opportunistic plant growth (otherwise known as “weeds”), and (panic!) getting seeds set in the greenhouse.
Ah, but the joy of the change in seasons, the unmitigated anticipation and expectation. Spring, with it’s fertility and renewal, promise of new life, has come again, and, suddenly, I’d better get out in the dirt.
Mmmmmm…Tastes Like Orange!
RMH citrus has been reaching a sublime state of ripeness—Meyer lemon, grapefruit, oranges. Though a bit pithy dog, the fruit is juicy and very tasty and wonderfully sweet/tart. Here’s a picture of the oranges & grapefruits I had for dessert and breakfast…mmmmm.
As it rains in March so it rains in June
I’ve been reading the Farmer’s Almanac, that our friend Ingrid gave me, and the above quote is one of the bits of folk wisdom reserved for this month. But, really, this much rain in June? We’ll see.
(In case you’re interested, the book predicted a dry March.)
~Timothy


