alone on a hill
It looks like spring here in Georgia. The daffodils are pushing out of the ground. The cherry blossoms are blooming.
And it sounds like spring. I’m going to betray my ignorance here, but on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday a flock–as in 50 or more–very excited birds played in our yard. Flying back and forth, singing, having a great time. A bird party.
Just a few minutes ago, I took out my Audubon guide to identify what kind of bird it was–brown belly, dark coat. A Robin. “Popularly regarded as the best sign of spring’s arrival…”
It feels like spring. It’s 62 outside right now, but the sun is so bright, it feels warmer. Even though it went down to 42 last night, according to the weather people, it will be 72 before the day is over
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Last year, I couldn’t wait for March 1st–the day I’d designated to put color back in the header of the blog. Then on the first we had snow here, and I couldn’t bring myself to write the spring post I’d counted on. This year, March 1 came and went without my even realizing it was time.
Richard Yates wrote in Revolutionary Road, “What is spring but a mindless rearrangement of cells in the crust of the spinning earth as it floats in endless circuit of its sun?”
Rearrangement–such a small thing.
“It’s hard to tell somebody what you mean to say. And that’s an idea that I’m obsessed with. It’s why I write. It’s why everybody writes.”
--Jonathan Safran Foer
“Rearrangement–such a small thing.” But what a difference it can make. I find my thinking in frequent need of rearranging.
It’s spring here too and that’s an instant mood lifter. I vow to step outside for a little yard work and sunshine today … heavily fortified with allergy meds.
Btw, where is the beach depicted in your header?
Also, what’s up with WordPress today that you have to “sign-in” at every blog to leave a comment?
Linda, I’ve been thinking about rearrangement since I wrote this piece–the furniture, the sections of a story, the way I do things. It is a small thing that can make a big difference.
No idea about WordPress. Just a temporary glitch, I think.
The beach is in Truro, Massachusetts. I’ve been thinking about a post on those cottages for later this week or next week.
Spring is pushing through here, too. But yesterday’s abundant sunshine has disappeared behind gray clouds and rain. Looks like someone upstairs has decided to rearrange a few things.
Happy Spring! It was even close to 60 in Maine. No daffs yet except for cut ones inside. Thanks for sharing yours.
Here in Boston, we just had our first purple crocuses on the sunny side of the house. Finally. Yay!
Linda, Darrelyn, Sarah, and Kim–it looks like it was spring yesterday from California to Maine and from Louisiana to Massachusetts–what a great start to the week.
Oh! You have blossoms!
Great quote.
Enjoy the photos, Jennifer. I guess it will be a while before you have blossoms in Canada.
Great Yates quote. What was rearranging itself today in our part of the world was rain and wind, although last week the birds were singing. Rearranging indeed!
Love hearing your thoughts on spring. Here in Tucson, we don’t really have seasons. What a beautiful photo of that lone daffodil.
Terresa-This morning here it was dark and rainy but midday the molecules rearranged themselves into a blue sky and puffy white clouds. BTW, what is your part of the world?
Teresa-You may not have any seasons in Tucson but you have those breath-taking mountains all around you. About the lone daffodil, I keep hearing that Beatles’s song: The Fool on the Hill…
My daffodils bloomed in February. My gardenias are blooming early too. But it’s still too cold for me. I personally don’t bloom until it’s eighty degrees.
Ha! I wilt at eighty degrees.