Category: Happiness

A blue sky and brilliant sun is all that was needed to bring on the bees. I won’t have to worry about the apples not getting pollinated. The warm sun also made the arugula shoot up fast. Arugula is another vegetable which seeds easily. Let some of it bloom and go to seed, and each spring it keeps coming back once the sun returns.

The sun also brought out this earthworm. While planting a row of radish, it slid out of the ground, slipped over the surface, and disappeared about a foot away, making me wonder what would make an earthworm crawl out of the ground on a sunny day. Was it fleeing a mole or marauding beetle? Was it curious about the sun? Did it need to warm up?

The warm sun makes the lilac perfume the yard. It also makes the tulips melt. The sun is all it takes.

The spring sun shines a light on garden art, a shallot carved into an exquisite piece. Nature has a way of turning anything into a museum piece if you leave it alone long enough.

The spring sun brings a bumble bee to life. Fresh out of the cold ground, it rests on the back porch, soaking in the sun, before she flies off to start her colony. Hopefully, she found a nest site on this sunny day and is snug tonight in her new home, dreaming of all the children she will have.

The spring sun brings a cat on my chest when I stretch out to enjoy the warm, sunny day. The spring sun, source of life and happiness.

Pray tell, what is that light in yonder sky? What is that blue up above? After an eternity of dark clouds, snow, rain, mist, slashing winds and gales, the sun rises again. It was a shock to step outside and see sunlight making the tree tops glow, to see the sky blue again, not to feel the damp air wet my hair and fog my glasses. I’d forgotten what sunlight is. Now I can hold out my webbed hands and feet and let the sun melt the webs away.

The growing chicks are ravenous this morning. They gorge themselves in preparation for a full day out in the sunshine, their eyes seeing many things for the first time as the sun fills the gardens and woods with the brightest light they have ever seen.

Oh Spring, where art thou? It’s an oft repeated cry this February. I should be out weeding and planting and … and … and, but this morning all I can do is be delighted by the beautiful snow. There are years when it never snows. The pruned pear trees look lovely. The dogs are having fun. The rosemary is crushed, but it will rebound. There is no mistaking where the fence is. The bench by the pond has a soft cushion to sit on. The chickens are laying eggs. The witch hazel is still fragrant. It bends easily underneath the heavy snow and springs back at the slightest touch. And Takuma is chomping away at the dried lovage stems. How could I possibly be sad?

When spring and winter dance, towering clouds leap over the mountains, dragging curtains of snow through the tree tops. These dances are so ephemeral that if you are driving, you have to pull over to the side of the road to stop to enjoy them.