Bright sun again today, and no rain in sight. The weather people have revamped the long-range forecast to reflect it, too. And while the rain is always welcome, so, too, at this point is a chance for our small world here to dry out a bit.
For days, everything has been wet: ground, grass, firewood, studio ceiling and walls. Those last two, of course, mean more work for us even than usual this season.
There is much work yet to do on the land, as well. More ditches remain to be cleared; a little fencing has yet to be fixed. Thanks to the recent riotous precipitation, the grass is already long past in need of mowing, and it’s barely mid-May. The earth’s green carpet is beaded everywhere with yellow, profusions of giant dandelions such as we rarely see here. And already, the smaller flowers are rebounding from their winter’s rest: forsythia, poppy, a solitary scarlet tulip.
Now, at the midpoint of spring, we are the chance to watch the wildflowers being to paint the earth with petals.
I have never made any secret of the fact that I am a child of autumn, of winter and of the storm. Those are my preferred seasons, particularly the first; born in October, my very soul comes alive with the sharp clear air of fall. Spring is as hard for me as it is for the horses: in their case, colic and thrush; in mine, joint pain and inflammation and fatigue that is nearly impossible to manage. Despite the heat, I much prefer the long hot days of summer to the erratic temperatures and trickster winds of spring.
But this year, we have been a bit luckier than usual — luckier in the immediate term, at least, if not by the way Earth herself measures such things. Climate change has brought us much to regret, but this year, it has also brought us unusually early and voluminous precipitation, more moderate temperatures, and — most of all — a great reduction in the gale-force winds that are the chief marker of the season here.
That alone is a great gift, one to honor in the moment despite what it might presage for the long term.
Now, the clouds are building again to east and west, an unmistakable monsoonal thunderhead pattern a whole month early. It means, of course, that the scant chance of rain in the forecast could materialize momentarily after all, but on the whole, it’s unlikely for today; abundant sun and clear dry air are likely to remain.
It will also, at long last, be warm today; the mercury is already two degrees from the projected high, and the actual high usually arrives in late afternoon, when a full days’ sun has had a chance to warm the earth. We can expect better than the prediction — into the seventies, at least. more wildflowers will bloom today, and perhaps a few of those we planted ourselves, as well. The palette is ready, and so is the canvas.
All that remains is the arrival of new petals, to paint our world anew.
~ Aji
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