We’re enjoying the first prolonged stretch of warm weather. Earlier ones were a tease, because then it got cold again. Today is the first day that I haven’t turned up the heat as I got up, and we slept with a window open in the bedroom. There was a bunny, a small one, sniffing around my gardens out front – it kept its back to me, guilty no doubt because the minute my new bulbs start to sprout, he/she/they will be waiting. I was looking out back too, yesterday morning, and saw a possum emerging from the swampy area behind the house, what we call the “dell”. Admittedly, we watch a lot of UK television.
The rain last night took down, or away most of the remaining snow. On the back deck, it’s gone, which means that in the absence of snow, there will follow a veiled threats to fire up the grill. I made the first steps, ordered a couple of replacement parts for it. There’s always the dilemma of repair or replace. This one has done about five years of service, which is about what I get from the inexpensive ones I buy. They stay out year-round with a cover, so after a few years, the rust takes its toll. Maybe one more year, perhaps, because it still works. I’ll fill the propane tank in a few weeks, another indication that the time is coming. We have a discussion every year about the appropriate time to begin using the grill. Her Ladyship reminds me, in a tone with just the tiniest hint of reprimand, that “some people barbecue all year round”. That’s preposterous here. She expects me to navigate the deck, at least size of a football field in winter, wading through several feet of snow with drifts waist-high, to get to the barbecue? Some folks shovel off their decks, which I suppose is the right thing to do. I don’t. I firmly believe that, if the weather gods cover it with a fluffy blanket of snow, they can darned well take it away too. As the snow melts down and refreezes, the deck floor is icy and, in a word, treacherous. I’m not risking potential broken limbs for some burgers and hot dogs. No matter how perfectly I’ll grill them, with lightly toasted buns. Yes, I’ll say it boldly. I’m not risking my buns for theirs. When it’s safe to put out containers of flowers, it should be safe to barbecue. May is good. Well, actually, the black flies are out, so let’s not hurry.
The seasons change at their own, mysterious rate. Have you noticed that, along with a distinct sense that they’re coming and going a lot faster than they used to? Spring into summer doesn’t smack you in the face. Summer to fall is a gradual dying off of flowers, leaves turning color and dropping, and the air is a bit cooler, particularly mornings.
Fall to winter is a face-smacker. We’re moving along nicely until, wham. The first snowfall, and we realized what we needed to do to prepare that we didn’t. Put the deck furniture away. Shut off the hoses and put them away. Get out the rubber car mats so we don’t ruin the carpeted ones. Locate the snow shovel, and run to the store to pick up some ice-melt. There isn’t any, of course, because everyone had the same thought. Put down the storm windows. Such bother. Perhaps if I live long enough and climate change totally catches up with me, I won’t have to do all that. But I doubt it. By that point, the oceans will be washing over us unless we move to a mountain top.
But, as I started to write before I got distracted, winter into spring has a satisfying, gradual feel. The weather outside warms gradually. That wonderful feeling hits you when you don’t need to put on a winter coat anymore. There’s a spring “aroma” – I wouldn’t necessarily call it a “smell”. But it’s earthy in a good way. We can smell the first buds, the leaves sprouting, plants put up their first tentative shoots, hoping that Mother Nature won’t turn on us and send a blanket of late snow. Every time I think I’ll go buy a new plant container or two, I look at the wall of them I already have. Do I really need more? Does Elon Musk need another cash card? I can plan my garden work. Renovations there always pay bountiful dividends, although it’s more of the Princess’s inheritance down the drain. There are two schools of thought on when the best time is to tidy up and remove the dead stuff. Some say in the fall, when you can then mulch everything for the winter. Others suggest leaving it all until the spring, because wildlife relies on the seeds and other bits of debris that are left for winter feeding. I take the latter road because, in full disclosure, I’m too lazy to do it in the fall. I do plant bulbs then for the spring, because they need to have the winter freeze and I don’t want the bunnies to be disappointed, and I empty the containers and put them in storage, but that’s about as far as I go.
Spring has a feel of emerging, like a butterfly from its cocoon, or a baby bird from its shell. It’s energizing. I’m already planning lots of projects which I probably won’t get to. But the disappointment won’t set in until fall when it fully dawns what has been left undone. The screened porch needs to be repainted. I’ve been meaning to do that for several years now, but somehow, I just go on in my rocker reading the morning paper and blocking the painting out. Both the basement and the garage need a good clean-out and throw-out. Yes, it’s that most wonderful time year. What we put off all winter, because “it’s too cold, so it’ll get done in the spring”, and that time is now upon us. We were laughing about it in the grocery line the other day. The cashier, a man about my age, reinforced my thought that it’s still too early, while a woman in the next line over said cheerfully, “Oh, we grill all year round.” I thought, I’ll bet you don’t – it’s probably the male of the household out in parka and ski cap turning the burgers. Quite treacherous out there, and I could blow away.
I’ll start cleaning out and raking the gardens and consider what new plants will go where. I’ll oil the clippers and the pruning shears. I’ll plant some of the bulbs I ordered over the winter, in hopes that they’ll still come up. A few months of dormancy is okay, isn’t it? I’ll clean and wash my containers for planting later on. Yes, indeed. Spring is here, and I’ve got lots to do. But I still have lots of time, right?
Perhaps after my nap.
I'm Thinking...No! 