I have been putting away the things of winter; warm garments, the decorations of house-bound days that make the home seem cosy. Pillows and throws get thrust into cupboards, and all the plants have found a new conservatory in the little sunroom at the back of the house. In order to not be too rash I leave the pilot light on in the electric fireplace, having learned over the years that even May evenings can be chilly
and a little heat is welcome.
The doors stand wide open to the spring breezes, and the house bares itself to their caresses (good heavens, that sounds a bit exotic and over the top,,,,) Anyway, if I were Martha Stewart I would get out the white linen slip covers and fill creamy vases with spring flowers and go and read a good book, but I notice as I dream about such things that all the pictures on the walls need to be polished (maybe I should put them away for the summer) and the woodwork could do with a good washing, and the side lawn needs to be cut - and if I DID take all the pictures down I would leave little gold picture hangers decorating the walls, and I would have to take THEM all down, and put them all back again in the fall when the house needs to look cosy once more.
Far too much for an ancient lady, but it's nice to think of simple, clean, crisp surroundings, with light music and birds at the fountain.
I will just post another bit of spring poetry, - this one The Enkindled Spring by D.H. Lawrence, 1916
This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and game-filled bushes,
Thorn blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between
Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.
I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration
Of Green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze
Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration,
Faces of people streaming across my gaze.
And I, what fountain of fire am I among
This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed
About like a shadow buffeted in the throng
Of flames, a shadow that's gone astray, and is lost.