One gorgeous spike in the temperature had me out in my favorite t-shirt and smiling like a child. It wasn't to last, as the dark clouds rolled in and the cold wind began to race over the land. Tomorrow they are calling for slush, sleet and rain...possibly even snow and I groan. I am so ready for Spring it hurts, aching deep in my bones like a love sick girl waiting for that oh so special phone call. I keep looking to the calender, hoping the passing of days will bring me close to that lovely time of growth I crave so much. I got a Whole Seed catalog last week becausea) I want to plan heirloom EVERYTHING this year
and...
b) I apparently wanted to punish myself.
It is almost as if my nails are crying out for dirt to be under them, my palms lusting for a fine coating of sod and compost. I can't get watermelons out of my head and if I thought I could, I would happily live off that ruby red flesh for all of the summer and more. I roll out the paper of my heart and heart full of wanting, scribe my desires.
Dear Spring, Heart of my Heart.
I never loved Winter, you must believe me. I wish nothing more than your quick and gentle rain storms, your mud and hazy warm days. Give me red clover, give me tender lettuce shoots and little leaves on Brown Turk fig trees. Spring, baby, come back. You can blame it all on me. Just know that I cannot grow without you.
Love with dirty hands,
A.N
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