Tugs of Spring

 

 

 

I woke with the urgent need to fling open the windows and let the fresh air rush into the house, spiraling in all the stale corners and circling the ceilings and the hallways.

 

Somewhere in my dreams I must have encountered Spring, but alas, she had only sent her

 Envoy, - slightly warmer temperatures. 

No sunshine, no blue skies.  Indeed, the sky has grown heavier and clouds have crept down lower in the valley so that on looking out all thoughts of Spring and uplifted spirits

would surely have vanished.

 

But wait, - the pavement is dry. 

 The ice has disappeared, except for small spots that even ancients with canes

should be wary enough to avoid. 

There is no wind. 

 The air feels warm and the door, open to the summer room,

 draws me like a magnet.

 

I have birthday cards to mail and books to return to the library

and a promised visit to an old friend.

 

Already I am recapturing a little of the spirit of adventure

after this long, enforced sojourn indoors.

 

I still have not retrieved any forsythia branches from the old garden. 

 Or uncovered the Lenten Roses  from what was their icy prison......

Or stirred up the compost that is hopefully warm and busy and productive,

making rich soil for the new pot containers we brought home from the Garden Shop......

 

Is this the day?????