Tuesday, March 15, 2011

For Every Season

The daffodils are blooming. Camellias heralding spring. Warm spring rains and temps in the 50's. Birds have a new song with more joining the choir. Lilacs swell in bright green buds. Weeds insistent  and the lawn need mowing. A small bit of eagerness to get my hands in the dirt pokes at my brain.

As I get older, living in a mild climate calls to me now and then. The bones ache with the changing seasons. My allergies complain with the spring dust, pollen and molds in the fall. My skin is dry in the winter and buried under sunscreen in the summer. The changing seasons.

Yet, with each season, I find an awakening in me. I love the surprises of each season....even after experiencing them for over 63 years.

Fall was a visual thing on the farm. In the fall, tools were readied for a winter slumber. Fresh straw was added to the cow stable where the cows would spend most of their time during the cold months. Chicken houses were in good repair. The sheep were given fresh bedding and the barn window and doors closed. Grain, corn, hay and straw were stored and ready for the fall and winter season.Winter wheat was planted. Cornfields combined.

Winter called us to the tobacco shed. Wood was stacked for the burner under the steamer. Day after day we trekked to the barn to work. The sheep were wooly, my horse had her winter coat and the chicken were cranky as always. Time would be spent around the fireplace and kitchen table.

Spring was the blessing given to each year. The brown grass gave way to green. Trees began to show a fresh shade of green. Flowers budded and perennials were all new again. Seeds were started. Gardens plowed. The air had a new, fresh smell. The cows meandered down the back lane to the creek once more while Dad hulled the winter manure. My horse began to loose her winter coat, while the sheep were shorn. The chickens poked in the chicken yard for fresh worms. Baby lambs were born. The killdeer was followed by her baby chicks on twig-like legs. The snow birds returned. The steamer chugged down the road coming to prepare the soil in the tobacco beds.

Summer came for three months. Tobacco would be planted, grain harvested and planting begun for the fall crops. The garden bounty graced our table. Lightning bugs came to call along with the cicada. Humidity set in and the trees provided a cool place to eat Popsicles.

Perhaps I cannot leave this change of seasons. I should miss the pleasures that each give. For today, I shall enjoy the birdsong, the gentle rain and the daffodils that opened last night.

Ah, sweet spring.

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