"For scents that herald spring time, For lilac-haunted nooks. For Violet's purple fragrance, And merry, trickling brooks - For little things that give souls wings - I thank thee..." M.Miller].
In the hustle of getting ready for the show, and lambing, I realized today the fruit tree up the road I always love to see come into bloom each spring has already begun to fade. I spent time this morning visiting with the muscari, for they last such a short time. Everyone's shedding, and to see what forms and bodies are underneath is yet another right of spring. Spring is change. The more we resist change, the more chaos we bring into our lives.
Two little birds came yesterday and sat on a table near the studio. They pecked at a young tree still holding on to some old autumn leaves. I guess the leaves aren't quite ready to let go. As the birds left, one tried to sit on the tiny leaf branch, and it fell to the ground. The worms will eat it now.
