The drip of sap and the mess of mud squishing under our feet; the blessedly longer days and the sweet smell of our own sweat mixed with sunshine-- this is spring.
The uncovering of the raw and the swelling of promise-- this is spring.
The exposure of emptiness and longing-- quickly filling with gratefulness and hope--this is spring.
The rushing waters, filled by the earth's renewing tears, overcoming its boundaries, sending fertility from one place to another-- I love spring.
No other season is filled with such absolute emptiness in its humble beginnings only to end in such grandness of birdsong, blossom-scented breezes, buzzing, frolicking, and unfurling. The moments move so quickly, and each precious sensory experience is all too fleeting, resisting capture; resisting any stagnation. Spring is the ultimate example in nature of overcoming adversity, of staying positive, of persevering through great odds and obstacles to make beauty of mundane beginnings. Spring is where I strive to be in my mind and heart.
On the farm, little as it is these days, the trees are tapped and dripping, the chickens share their eggs each day, the road has become impassable with mud, our little solar apartment rented, and the first greenhouse is planted with kale and spinach.
Homeschooling continues in the form of unschooling, which is going pretty well. We still have lots of food that is left over from fall-- so I feel great about the quantities of canned and frozen foods we put up.
Our goal for this summer is to finish a second space in the house that can be rented when we travel, and also to make the barn more welcoming for horses and owners who may wish to rent from us short term. We abut so many wonderful riding trails on the Great Pond Wildlands.
We are hoping that renting will begin to move us closer to realizing our goal of creating a space on our property that encourages exploration of simple living, traditional skills, permaculture, and right livelihood.
Spring Blessings ~