Saturday, March 31, 2012

March 31st, 2012

Spring is taking her own sweet time, lolly-gagging around somewhere....certainly not in the hills.
The skies are back to that unbroken, dull grey.  Not even a pearly grey....

I am still waiting to hear first reports of the call of the meadowlark, and tomorrow is the 1st of April.
Either my sentinels are not being very attentive, or the meadowlarks are down south,
partying with Spring and the Sun and Soft Breezes.

 Well, it seems there are lots of things to do in the garden before the warm weather arrives.  Charles is almost ready to lay the pruning shears aside.

I would like to plant some more sweet peas around the garden's periphery fences and maybe some morning glories as well, as they go right until the end of summer once they get blossoming.

This afternoon we are going to an open house hosted by the local Museum Society, and we are looking forward to ranging through their history books and meeting old friends and new people who are curious about the valley where they have chosen to live.

We begin to feel like pioneers of a sort, although there were many who were here before us.

Most of them lie below, listening to the whispers of the wind blown grassses.
And are they waiting for the sun to shine and the meadowlarks' sweet call, as well?


The Weaver of Grass said...

Yes, they are waiting just the same as we are Hildred.
Isn't it strange how we all long for Spring, especially as we get older and seem to need the sun on our old bones.

Sallie (FullTime-Life) said...

Oh! Do you not think that it is always Spring where they are?

I will be thinking of beautiful sweetpeas all the rest of this day. One of my favorites and one that I never ever see any more.

Barb said...

The lark never visits me here in the mountains, but the abundant sunshine does. I'm waiting for your sweet peas to bloom, Hildred.

Morning's Minion said...

Meadowlarks were a constant summertime presence in Wyoming. None in Kentucky that I've seen, but I rejoice in the abundance of cardinals and bluebirds in our dooryard.