This week marks 3 months since the tree fell on my cabin and HUZZAH the construction men finished this past Friday! Such good news to come home to after work! The time definitely gave me two things: A. many, many, many reminders reminders of the bonds of friendship; friends turning over guests room to me and making me part of their daily lives even more; friends helping me frantically take everything out of my cabin and now helping me move everything back in; and B. an opportunity to be reminded of how grateful I need to be for the many blessings in my life. The Farm is such a very special place and the friendships and family-like relationships we've forged here are so amazing. All of this said, I am sure I was less than graceful about not being in my own space at times over the past three months!e (Hey, no one's perfect!) So, now my cabin is newly roofed and some of the insides have a fresh coat of paint and there is no longer a gaping hole!
Life at the Farm these days is positively gorgeous! Spring keeps reinventing itself in every new plant and color that unfolds, again reminding me that the hard winter always births a magnificent spring! The snow drop flowers of March are long gone and the daffodils of last month are passe as the tulips have arrived, trumpeting in yellows and reds; the lilacs are fanning their fragrances in every direction; apple trees are covered in lovely white and pink blossoms, not even hinting of the fruits that will come to fruition in the late summer; plum trees too--new to me--scent yards with a heady perfume that makes me absolutely peaceful and wanting to do nothing more than lay under the tree, reveling in the darting hummingbirds, enormous, pollened bumble bees and beautiful yellow finches.
All the walking nature is awake again too. A bear--oh, there's always at least one trouble maker--has returned, and managed to get into the dumpster and the garbage shed and enjoy late night snacks, strewing a mess of trash in its wake. This year porcupines are all the rage--everywhere I go I see fat, quilled wonders; (absolutely breathtaking animals if you can get close enough to marvel) running alongside my car down the dirt roads; picking through ravines on the side of the busier roadways; waddling across someone's yard. Birds' songs are constant, something I wake to every morning, like an alarm clock; the second shifters with their questioning "whos," and swooshing of huge wings are what I listen for as I fall into deep sleep at night. And all the regulars are around too: possums, raccoons, bunnies, fox, coyotes--animals who are always around, add to this seasonal visual palette.
My garden is becoming a real garden, taking shape as things are removed from seed cell planters and put into my plots. So far sunflowers and spinach are up, baby spinach to be enjoyed soon! Not far behind should be cosmos and pansies; the big Memorial Day weekend push will be getting in the ground cucumbers, 5 kinds of tomatoes, tomatillos, peppers, more flowers, pumpkins, squash, broccoli. A friend has already gifted his garden to me, realizing that he won't have the time to invest in his already growing plants come summer. I took the plants willing and with many thanks, but realized that in doing so, I've given up more precious free time to weeding. But, even knowing that made me grin like an idiot. Why is it that one feels the satisfaction of a proud parent when looking out over the fruits of their labors?