The plants and creatures around me have a routine defined by nature. I too, feel renewed by the stir around me. I feel a renewed vigor.
Eschewing my morning coffee, I arise to clean the toaster oven back to its original shiny state, then follow its completion by decluttering a cabinet.
I later sit at the dining room table planning this year’s flower palette. Shall it be a yellow or red theme this year?
A cull of winter garments is initiated. Thick sweaters are tossed in a pile awaiting a gentle wash before being cloistered in the storage bag recently vacated by the pastels of a new season.
Brushing the collection of leaves and debris from the patio ushers in my yoga practice out-of-outdoors. Goddess and tree pose are more purposeful. Meditative sounds envelop me straight from nature. Warming rays of the sun reach deep.
Strolls in the woods no longer call for snowshoes or crampons. My boots sink into the mud; water puddling where I have walked will be a testament to my passage.
Downy pussy willow catkins bestow a tactile treat. A tease of yellow from the forsythia branches leads me to cut an armful to force into bloom indoors.
I feel pangs of nostalgia for my youth when hop scotch, jump rope and daydreaming on the limb of a tree helped herald my spring.
My palate yearns for spring lamb and asparagus. Hot cross buns are baked and shared. And I would not feel complete without a few jelly beans along with plump yellow marshmallow-filled Peeps.
No doubt, I am in full spring thaw and it feels great.
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