Early Spring arrives like the footstep of a sparrow... soft and delicate... almost imperceptible, unless you are watching for it. There is no fanfare, no percussion - just the faintest tinkling of a wind chime on a breeze. It washes slowly over the land, developing daily. If observed in a time-lapse, played at high speed, it would resemble an explosion.
In real time, however, It's as if Mother Nature, herself, is dabbing a watercolor paintbrush here and there, adding a little color... and then a little more... and more, until - the countryside is teeming with life and color and vibrancy.
But it all happens so subtly.
And that's where the magic lives ... in the subtle, the barely perceptible, blink-of-an-eye moment-to-moment unfurling of life.
There is one exception to this gradual "happening", however, and that is the grass. It's as if Spring arrives and announces that it's time to change the carpets. A switch is flipped and, overnight, the ground morphs from winter brown to electric green.
This weekend is Easter. We will be spending our Easter Sunday bike-riding with friends. It is to be a lovely high-60's degree day. I've gotten a jump start on the bike-riding season by riding an exercise bike inside - so I am quite excited to be back outside riding once again!
Saturday I plan to do a bit of baking, and a little painting...a little daily practice goes a long way. Here is yesterday's composition. I'll confess: it took me about 5 tries to produce a bee that looked like a bee.
Have a lovely weekend!! We'll be back on Monday with more Tales from the Farm!
PS.... Mary, you are so right. I mistakenly thought that plant by the stream yesterday was Jack in the Pulpit. Skunk cabbage, as you said. The Jack in the Pulpits are not up yet.... something to delight on another day!