I am sitting on the garden bench and feeling so fortunate this first day of spring. It is warm and sunny…after far too much cold and wet…and the sky is cloudless. What is it about the first day of spring? It is a day when writers, and poets, and songwriters seem compelled to write, rhyme, and sing, and I am one of them. The first day of spring is about hope, renewal, and a satisfying sense of reassurance that the cycle is repeating.
The bulbs are up, and the iphaeon is a riot of color, as predicted. I am excited to see the first green shoots of the allium I planted last fall. The shrubs are leafing out, the buds on the Carolina jessamin (Gelsemium sempervirens) are bright yellow, swelling, and about to burst forth, and the grass is starting to thicken and grow. The birds are making a racket in the woods…and I think beginning to pair off. A small butterfly is fluttering about the garden.
Yesterday I filled the suet feeder and watched two bluebirds…a male and female…taking turns at the feeder. My neighbor has a nesting box for them in which I expect them to homestead. A mockingbird will run them off from time to time, but they are persistent and come back.
Speaking of the suet feeder, this morning I discovered that a critter of some sort succeeded in opening the cage and emptied it. I suppose it was a raccoon needing a boost to get its spring juices flowing. I wrote about similar experiences in Guess What’s in My Garden! and the extraordinary means it took to keep the raccoons and squirrels from taking all and leaving the woodpeckers empty-beaked.
Yes, the cycle is indeed repeating…and I am happy.