This morning, as I have done for 36 years, I turned the calendar and my heart swelled at the thought of my first born.
Anne. Happy birthday month, sweetheart.
March also brings with it the intoxicating scents of promises. Winter can have its way with us and we can smile.
In honor of March I took a walk around the grounds here on our ridge meadow farm after lunch, seeing if I could note any changes indicating that spring arrives in just under 3 weeks. It's a "lamb" beginning for this year, even the winds are mild today. Temperatures hovering just barely above freezing. Yesterday's ice/snow is disappearing, exposing puddles and mud. Alas no sun, again.
In the spirit of spring anticipation I've begun several trays of seed. This year I decided to assemble the mini greenhouses for germinating before the babies go under the plant lights in the basement. It's a little too chilly down there for germinating most things. And I can keep a closer eye on them. It feels so GOOD to be planting those tiny bits. Contemplating a seed is right up there with gazing at the stars.
Ah, March. Welcome.