The first evidence of Spring

The look of Spring is everywhere.  I can feel it best in my bones when I lay down at night and notice which muscles I have been using during yard work in the day.

The ewe tree at the foot of the Wedding Reach of the stream sits quietly on the hill, well established and marking the end of the first path by the stream.  I cleaned the underbrush from it, and checked to see the the wild mint that Mary and I transplanted to the foot of it is still propogating.

Bonnie tells me that the steep path down the hill beside the tree is the one the resident moose takes on her way up and down the hill.

The willows on the hillside are in bud, letting me see which are the ones that need to come out.

Bonnie has taken the new salmon berry growth off of the hill, yet another time.

We are hoping to have only fern on that hill this year.

I was on my knees, looking at the first flash of colour from the skunk cabbage, seeing only the bloom and knowing that the huge six foot leaves are yet to come.

They sit in the cold water, letting it swirl around them, never showing that it might be cold to have your roots buried deep in the rap of the pool they are in.

I watch eagerly for the tiger lilies that are are gift from the Pilling house.

This is my first time to see them sprouting through the earth at my garden.

I am practising my skills at differentiating the weeds from the flowers.

And now I am noticing that pulling out a long string of quack grass can also disturb the roots of one of these lilies.

So much fun to see the flash of purple colour  that comes next to them and then to know that when I get back to the lake, tall stems will be there, waiting for the bells of the lilies to hang down by mid summer.

Arta