Had to share my excitement and spread my Spring Fever germs a bit. UPS delivered three boxes this afternoon while I was (finally getting through the winter projects) painting my bathroom. With only grim faced determination and near repetitive motion roller shoulder injury spurring me on, I finished the painting. All hail small rooms!
Dominic and I just finished carefully slicing into the boxes and the golden wood of the hive is reminiscent of honey, definitely a good omen. After trying on and replacing all of the gear while discussing the role of bees in the world, I was washing the paint off my hands and enjoying the view from our kitchen sink.
Just beyond my window at 6:32 p.m. all is awash in honeyed sunlight, a near miracle after the short days of winter. Jerry is being escorted around the duck yard by her dual male mallard squires, taking a brief respite from the rigors of setting. The hens, buttery yellow and red, are stretching and scratching in the fading light.
What is it about spring that makes me wish I could draw or write poetry. To be sure, I would accomplish even less in a day, but the urge to create and capture is there. Maybe it is the joyous recognition of the biological triumph that is surviving a winter, or just the sound of birds returning that wake my heart and hopes up. The are awake and shivering for a chance to dig in the mud more than ever this year, having realized the dream of being OF a place. My highest hope this season is to improve this homestead, and to be improved by it. Wishing you all a satisfying bout of the fever.
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