Starting is the hard part. For someone of my age and experience that is not very computer savvy, I have let myself be intimidated to begin this process. No more. Just like everything else in this life, it is learn as you go along, trial and error, and continuing to challenge yourself when you get to those uncomfortable places. Mistakes are opportunities.
Today the rain lightly falls, but not enough to keep the birds from the feeders or the horses under the shedrow. I notice the bulbs have risen another inch from the soil, almost overnight w/ the milder temperatures. This is magick for me every year. Flowers and grass and weeds and vegetables recover their potential after a long cold rest and offer it up to us in wild rifeness and beauty in a thousand different ways. The earth soup is rich and smells alive as I slog through the barnlot in my muck boots, every step a prayer of gratitude for these longer, brighter days, on this thawing earth. We all together reach toward the sun, reminding us of the joy in growing and changing.
I sit w/ the black barn cat, Little Wing, on the bench by the peach tree, and drink my coffee. The day beckons. No longer do I hurry in from the cold, but linger to find one more thing to do outside before returning to the house. The old yellow cat, Harley,(18) is determined to stay out most days, rather than on the cross stitch cushion inside. I have seen robins on the other side of the mountain when traveling to town, none in the yard yet, but any day now. And I am excited about the new chickens that will join us soon. The hibernation will soon be over, the earth’s winter restoration complete for this cycle. Snow and ice will return w/ a slap, but the battle leans in our favor, and there is no stopping spring’s intention.