It has been ridiculously warm and flora and fauna alike are helpless to resist. Spring is ephemeral enough played at normal speed. At this pace there is little time to savor...
These wee iris were up and gone in a day at the city house. Sad to know it will be another year before they return. Yesterday here at the farm there was no sign of the garlic I planted last October. This morning I spied two rows of it 4 inches tall. How can that be?
So very delightful to reach the vernal equinox and know that for the next six months there will be more light hours than dark ones, to enjoy dinner leisurely before darkness falls, to walk the meadow after dinner looking back at the farm house washed in crimson and lilac by the setting sun. There are still only 24 hours in a day, but somehow time feels more abundant. Daylight savings time helps with this, of course. I've learned that the Amish here do not set their clocks ahead. They acknowledge that the rest of us are an hour ahead. They choose to continue on what they call "Slow Time."
On this first day of spring I wish each of you the grace of slow time, time to savor the sweetness of the season.