There's a particular noise the rake makes as I sweep up the decomposing waste from a now long forgotten autumnal harvest, the springy metal scraping welcoming in the fresh green sprigs of spring, who refuse to be confined under snow and dark earth for even one more day. When the noise of the rake is heard, it stirs people and blooms alike. Neighbors come out into their yards, assessing the toll the winter has taken, drawing up their own rakes and tending to their own general out-door spring clean-up. People smile, wave, and chat as they walk by, calling out greetings. Of all the seasons, spring is my favorite.

The ground is still damp under the leaves, the leaves still wet with the final bits of melting snow in the spots that the sun never seems to reach through the branches of chestnut and walnut trees. It hasn't stopped the bulbs from poking their leaves up through the soil, seeking the spots of sun that now finally reaches them for longer hours, bringing their blooms out to dazzle us. Tiny bits of cheery magic sprouting out everywhere in the richest shades of heaven.

The leaves on the apple trees out back are going to burst open and provide a shady spot for dogs to lay. I've a garden out there waiting to be filled with things that fill my heart with well-being. Cucumbers, zucchini, tomatoes, and pumpkins are on this years list, as well as sweet peas, rose transplanting, zinnias and sunflowers.

The roses are going to go in the ground here. They've traveled with me beginning in Spokane, to Terrace Heights, to Bellingham, and then to Hillsboro and Albany and now it's time to let go of them. They were special, memorial roses. There are 6 surviving. They are a pain in the ass to move from place to place. This spring, they are getting new homes in the earth, where I intend for them to live out the rest of their natural lives. It's more of a statement about being able to let go of things, on my part, than it is about my intention to stay put here. Either way--it feels quite a big statement, and it has a good deal of personal meaning that I won't go into. 

The sunflowers are a new variety I've found, while shopping for my sweet peas and zinnias. They are Del Sol sunflowers, and I had to have them. I might plant some in pots after I get the roses in the ground. If they are as beautiful as I expect them to be, they could be a very cheery gift when in full bloom! Sometimes a very cheery gift is just exactly the right thing to have on hand.

My neighbor has been very helpful around the yard, lends me tools and takes my yard waste to the dump with him when he goes. He saw me battling a hill of dirt in the corner, as it kept seeping down onto my porch and a few days later I went out and noticed that he had built up a rock border around the area to contain the dirt, and he had turned the soil inside the new border and made it easy for me to plant my primroses. The other neighbor lent me his leaf blower when I was having a hard time in between the shrubs...

Life and spring are beautiful. I refuse to look at the darkness any more; it is too easy to be entirely absorbed in the beautiful rebirth of the earth. I am refreshed by it, delighted by it, absorbed in it, and twitterpated with it. Spring is a wonderful season, and I intend to go get my hands dirty!