The great unfolding is underway. New leaves, flowers of all colors, slowly unfolding, stretching, breathing, transforming the woodlands with every stretch. We could call Spring The Unfolding. Another word that comes to mind is Bird Song. From now into June you can’t step outside but hear the birds singing their love songs. By midsummer, the birds quiet down, their baby-making done, their children out the nest.

Unfolding rhubarb leaves with their crimson hue, you know, if you go live on Mars, you’ll never see such a sight. Among all the vegetable seeds future explorations to Mars will pack for their voyage and Martian colony, I don’t think rhubarb seeds will be on the list.

I can’t see myself traveling six months to a year in a capsule barely large enough to stand in, only to be trapped on a dusty planet, never to witness the spectacle of Unfolding or sit in the woods, eyes closed, enjoying Bird Song. How sad that would be. I’ll stick to earth and lie in the woods in the spring, watching the leaves unfold, and listening to the birds singing. I can close my eyes and dream of Martian adventures, and when I open my eyes, I can breathe in the freshness of new life.