TheBanyanTree: Ready . . . Set . . . Go!

[Margaret R. Kramer]

The sun winks at me before six am and it continues to shine over the
neighborhood until after eight pm.  Then it eases under the horizon. It
stretches fiery red tentacles into a star cluttered sky while the regal moon
begins its night journey.

The temperature doesn’t dip below freezing anymore.  It’s chilly, cool
enough for a sweater, but it isn’t cold.  I don’t need to wear mittens.  I
took the heater out of the bird bath.  I’m confident the water won’t turn
into an ice rink.

The ferns are beginning to uncurl from the dirt.  Straight green tubes are
sprouting from the ground, too.  They will be lily of the valley plants when
they grow up.

The day lilies are very mature already.  The clematis is long enough to
reach for the trellis.  The grass is green, but not tall enough to mow.  We
haven’t had enough rain to encourage jungle growth yet.

It’s amazingly dry and sunny this April.  My garden beds are hard black
dirt.  Dirt dust rides along on spring breezes.

I’ve taken down the winter bird feeders.  There’s enough food around for the
birds to find it on their own now.

The warmer temperatures have brought Ray out of the house and he’s beginning
his annual task of cleaning out garage, which is our oversized trash bin
during the winter.  If we don’t want something, it’s thrown into the garage
where it’s out of sight out of mind until spring.

Ray tuned up my bike the other night.  I rode it around the neighborhood
without a helmet and I didn’t fall and crash my head on the pavement.  My
knees didn’t hurt and my legs were strong enough to get me up small hills
without excess effort.

But it was the swath of green that caught my eye this week.  The buds are
slowly but surely opening and a green ribbon is beginning to form along the
skyline.  The openness and bareness of winter is turning into the lushness
and greenness of summer.

We’re almost there.  We need to be just a few degrees warmer.  We need a
little bit more rain.  We need the days to stretch endlessly into the
twilight hours.

When the garage is clean, then it will be summer.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at earthlink.net

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We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our
children.
~Native American Proverb