grow

the house knows it's spring. the herbs by the kitchen window have new young leaves, blushing a fresher green than their stolid surrounding predecessors. the hanging plant sends its tendrils straining through empty space towards the window. even the garlic bulbs in their little disposable net bag somehow feel the call - rise, sprout and live again. somewhere, outside your bag, outside this kitchen, beyond roof and these four walls, spring is here. it is time for all good growing things to become green, to strive and follow the light up into the sky.

unlooked for, unbidden, the magic of spring calls back the life of a tasty garnish.

while the folk-memories of fertility bring euphemistic eggs and representational rabbits to the fore, i will see the soul of spring in a garlic bulb, and think of what this season truly is about - the imperative to live, and grow.

flock

ah, for the flight of small birds - there is no miracle quite as uplifting (ha!) as the soaring, billowing ebb and flow of hundreds of little birds. they swell like a sail in the light spring breeze; blown, seemingly helplessly, to wherever the wind might take them. the swirling changes in direction, so like the schooling of fish, baffles me - how do they know where to go, where to be? without the guiding ripples of a universe of water, how can they weave together as closely as fish, never knocking another member of the flock out of that clear blue sky? for no one leads, and therefore none can follow; they all just understand, instinctually, where and how to be from moment to moment.  i have never seen one fall.

it is ineffable. and, any attempt at puns aside, it lifts my spirits.

rosy

warm sunshine, baby birds and fluffy white clouds have lifted me out of the mire...i am no longer looking down to the slush and the murk, but to the sky and its promise of spring. i look up more than most of the humans i've worked with; and yet, there are so many things out there specifically to help you humans do so.

i envy you your stylish sunglasses, your great statures as a vantage point, your binoculars; binoculars would be very helpful in my line of work, if only they were a manageable size! but alas, tiny observers must always try to see through other's eyes...and sometimes peer through their specs. if these can be rose-colored glasses, all the better.

but regardless of method, i'm feeling optimistic that things are looking up - even more than i usually do - and although it may only be ceiling tile, what i see up there is roseate.

cracks

in the unbroken monotony of a perfect winter snowscape, the unfortunate facts of life are covered over. a muffling blanket of nature's purity hides dog poo, potholes, and litter from sight. this makes a big difference for those who have to take these things head-on, as it were.

 

but now the world turns towards spring, and the sun's gentle touch has awakened the world in all its messy glory. ice becomes slush, rushes through the gutters and down the drain, a brief and frozen perfection now pouring into the sewers. winter's follies are laid bare, all that lay hidden under months of snowfall is revealed; and now, the cracks begin to show.