It’s spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you’ve got it, you want — oh, you don’t quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! ~Mark Twain
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Give Me one More Day
"I'm not old, I just need re-potting." I have this sign over my front door. Sometimes I don't feel any older than I did 20 or 30 years ago, until I hike too far up the hill or wrestle with a goat who needs to have his hoofs trimmed. Then I realize that my body is not as agile as my thinking is anymore.., that this body is wearing out. And then I think to myself that it would be so nice if I could "re-pot" myself like some of the root bound plants in my garden. That's the problem. I'm root-bound. I need more room and better soil so I can keep growing, but here I am in my 60's, in a worn out old container that has been through some rough years of weathering the storms of life and there is very little that I can do accept lose weight and accept what is. Sometimes trying to be positive get really old. Sometimes being "happy"about everything gets tiresome.....
Just about the time I start feeling sorry for myself I take a look at what's around me. The mild Spring weather is edging up to 70 degrees. The linnets are frantically putting a nest together in the dog angel birdhouse and all the pansies have survived the cold nights and the wind...., and on my first Iris, about to bud, is a very small white spider.
The goats are happily eating the new grass in the pasture and smiling for the camera. We have planted some lettuce and tomatoes (the beginnings of a great summer garden) and a new, very yellow-orange bird has arrived to drink the hummingbirds sugar water but can't figure out how to get it's beak into the tiny opening. I'm sure the hummers are laughing over this. I am.
Spring has come to the Foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains and the hills are covered in carpets of small white flowers and yellow Buttercups. Each day I find a new wildflower and take a picture of it. Then I go back home and look it up to see what it's called. Each day I put one foot in front of the other and step forth, looking for something new, something beautiful. Today the old container allows me one more place, small though it may be, to hold and keep this fleeting life of mine, one more day, one more hour, one more breath....