Dirt and Stars and Spring Awakenings
There is dirt under my nails, a microcosm of minerals and organisms and organic material huddled under the crescent moons at the ends of my fingers, and I can't stop smiling. Until this week the spring winds have been stern, not letting me get too ahead of myself in the gardens. I'm apt to wander out, dropping layers and shoes and socks and rolling up pant legs, but it's not yet that kind of temperature. I'm kept somewhat corralled by the chilly morning dew and the late afternoon breezes, but in between the dawn and dusk I find moments to get my hands in the soil, the warming earth now parting eagerly for me. I made a fantastic error in judgement late last autumn when I hung a feeder for the birds. It was too close to one of the vegetable beds and now the fallen seed has created an oasis of grass at the end of my rows of peas. The new pea shoots are happily leaping up without hesitation and so, in order to ensure they are not choked out by sprouting birdseed, I've b