On this first day of calendrical spring, I’m dipping back into the archives for a 10-year-old post that still expresses my feelings perfectly.
As for the current experience, we have been in and out of warmer temperatures for a few weeks. The best harbinger of spring that I’ve seen was a handful of Canada Geese flying north this morning. North. They either know something I don’t or are just winging it: We still have snow, even on south-facing slopes.
This now-I’m-coming, now-I’m-not, will-it-ever-get-here spring sparked my second haiku.
Warmth plays peek-a-boo;
gritty drifts give ground slowly.
And yet, geese push north.
“Geese push north…” and Daphne blooms in the shelter of my front porch, and out in the open rhubarb phalluses and peony spears poke forth. Spring seems to know something that our careful reason doesn’t.
Jim – I may never eat rhubarb pie again. . . But I’m glad it’s observably spring where you are.
John says in the woods the snow is melting faster than he can paint it. “I get my brush loaded, look up and the earth is showing….”
Barbara – Good to hear! Our snow pile out front is more resistant than you’d expect or than I appreciate. It gets snow from the snow plow all winter and seems to settle into an icy mass that is slower to melt/sublimate than mere snow.
Spring’s delights: lush glens,
geese plying northern sky, and
fresh rhubarb for sauce.
Tom – LOL. We’ve got the geese (the advance party, I think) but no lush glens or rhubarb stalks just yet. Maybe another month. A good thought to look forward to.
Isabel, you are a gifted composer of haiku.
You may ignore Jim as he is referring to the poisonous leaves of the plant that precede the edible stalks. I blush to having made the same observation but spring has much to do with procreation, does it not?
Laurna – LOL. OK, I’ll keep rhubarb pie in the rotation. And thanks for the encouragement. Poetry has never been my thing but I like these bite-sized bits. Maybe all those years of excising unnecessary words have been good for something.