- Subject: EXIT WINTER
- From: firstname.lastname@example.org (Glen Williams)
- Date: Mon, 28 Apr 2003 06:31:10 -0400
The last of my snow melted yesterday. Even the accumulated drifts under
the blue spruce. That's always the last to go. The dog and I spent a couple
of hours on the ground yesterday carefully uncovering crocus and species
tulips that had forced their way through leaves and other debris from
winter. It was like discovering gold. The hostas are still comfortably
underground but with a few more days at 70 degrees, I expect that will
change. Am still not uncovering them. Just a little checking to make sure
favorites are still there. Favorites does not mean the expensive ones
anymore. More change.
I have 4 hostas from Naylor Creek on my window sill and those have met the
need of my hosta fix. For the last three years I have had a couple of
vendors send a few things early and have taken pleasure from them inside.
Of the four I have, H. 'Earth Angel' seems to promise the most. But ,
that's not really observation, but hope on my part. A centered sport from
H. 'Blue Angel' seems a good gamble for my affection. Hosta promises and
dreams are notorious. The same is true of spring too.
This last winter was cruel to a lot of shrubs and small trees. I spent a
couple of hours trimming yesterday too. It wasn't that long ago that I
seemed to spend hours sealing the wounds of tree limbs or fruit trees
limbs lost to winter. Doing nothing seems a vast improvement. All those
years of doing something and it turns out that , beyond a neat cut at the
collar, nothing else is needed. Now that's my idea of progress. Doing less
and getting more.
I have stared at my seedlings too long and am imagining things in them that
are unlikely. It's more than time to be outside. The raspberries are now
cut back and the tall grasses are next. They were great in the winter and
now look like so many bad brooms. A week ago I was working under the front
hedge taking out all of the hamburger wrappers and bottles that seem to
stop in mid-flight in my hedge. The hedge is about 8 feet from my street.
The street is used as a short cut to and from the high school. Did you know
that there are still students that don't have cars? Amazing. In any event,
as I labored in my hedge one of these blind, deaf and dumb students tossed
an empty soda can into the brush of the hedge. It actually landed on me. I
had no idea I could get up to fast . My Sheltie had been barking at them
and they were taunting her by calling her a freeze-dried Lassie. I didn't
need three strikes to attack. I felt much better afterward. Much better.
" Qui me amat, amat et canem meam"
20 Dewey St.
Springfield , Vermont
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