They Can, I Can't.

Last week 0 degrees. This week 70. That's better than the other way around.

Anytime I try to do something, I just can't. Have to go inward for a while and fix this. Am glad to have crocuses around for inspiration. They're blooming in the stony little rock-garden microclimate just outside the kitchen door. First seen March 2. Crocus day is always the real first day of spring. They've also already attracted honeybees.

Spring Sunrise 2019

Waiting, waiting. . . purple clouds in the east, the great Source color-mixing on its palette in real time, then adding some light, knowing we are watching. Light is a specialty. The work must be totally unprecedented. There can be no error, cannot leave a blank space or discard and start over, must differ from all before it, because this day is a gift specifically for the majestic Earth, and the sunrise its wrapping! And it has to be unsigned so everybody and everything has to guess who gave it. Everyone's answer is different. Everyone is at a different place to receive it. Perfect! I'm smiling. The artist hopes only that the gift will make us smile.

I have enjoyed the long, elaborate, poetic springtimes typical of mid-Missouri, with upsetting lilacs and startling bunnies and winds that invent their own kites, and hope this spring is another. Not only that, I love sharing the greenery and music of the birds and frogs with visitors from the north who travel in a day from their winter to our spring, and marvel.

Spring Forward

The spiritual reading today said "Strengthen your will." I said, okay, I'll try, nothing to lose, and after my in-room coffee made the bed and dressed myself at once for the 6:30 p.m. ballet class, my favorite -- because then I won't have to change later. Without much back-and-forth or cellphone reading I willfully decided -- because the dawning day was wildly beautiful, the forsythia and tree buds all popping, the blue and white hyacinths in full bloom, the air clear and fresh -- to take a walk at Glassberg Conservation Area. One mile into the walk there's a fantastic vista of the Meramec River valley. Then one mile back.

Bluebells, violets, spring beauty, the white daisy-like flowers of the bloodroot, the first dappled leaves of the trillium -- all suddenly existed. Walking was easy and puddles few because gravel was recently shoveled over some well-worn parts of the path. There's a wooden bridge and some stepping stones across a creek tributary. The sun dribbled light into the narrow stream. It was 9:00 a.m. A sleeveless shirt was perfect. In the photo I'm relaxing alongside an energetic little waterfall with clear fresh icy water. How good!

After this willful walk I willfully fixed a full breakfast and ate it on the porch in perfect weather with singing birds alongside. This breakfast was a victory -- toast and egg and all that.

I had willfully washed and dried my new cotton nightgown, a great bargain, that arrived with sleeves four inches too long. I willfully set up the ironing board -- usually it might take me five weeks to feel like doing it, but I was strengthening my will -- and secured the ruler, shears and pins to shorten the sleeves, and hemmed the sleeves with iron-on sticky tape rather than needle and thread, although needle and thread might have been quicker. Finished in an hour.

Then I went willfully to work on my work. Did okay. Then fixed a banana-yogurt-peanut butter-coffee shake for lunch. Then wanted to get lazy. Just for today, I won't be. I need a hummingbird feeder (birds arrive around April 24; males have arrived as early as the 12th). After ballet class I will go get one.

Druid in a Bathrobe

East to west through 3 rooms

Whoever built the Divine Cabin in 1935 did it right, because March 20, equinox, at sunrise I was waiting like a druid in my bathrobe for the early sunbeams to knife straight through three rooms to the back wall. The builder cared enough to point the kitchen door precisely due east--so that the west-facing window hosted the exact same phenomenon, a sunbeam piercing the house clear through, in reverse in late afternoon. Does it in autumn, too. But spring is the most heartening time of year and its first day its most heartening day. I toasted it with coffee, ate cornmeal mush with maple syrup, and bacon--it doesn't get any better than that. . .smiled all day.

March 2017 has been 81 degrees and then 24 at night, and then it snowed, but every time this happens I frame it as spring starting all over again. Spring is a limited-time-only thing and I set the alarm now to get up before dawn so I experience as much of spring as possible. I think somehow it appreciates me back, turning all soft and green and baby blue.

Just to Let You Know the Crocuses Came Up

First noticed shoots about two weeks ago during a warm spell. First noticed blooms yesterday. They're all over the south-facing slope! It's the best day of the year!

The Happiest Day of the Year

Here it is -- the day I await all winter: the first crocus in the lawn, plus a bud for lagniappe. Joy; all doubts fade; all things are possible. The whole world looks beautiful now that it's reframed as spring. No wonder the ancient New Year came in March. I tore the plastic from the front window so I can see the east again, where the sun and the moon rise. It tore some of the paint from the house. I'll patch it up later.