Spring Traffic

Spring is making up for lost time hereabouts.

Out driving today, I was struck by the brilliant green of the newly unfurled leaves; a green I didn't see just a few days ago when driving the same route.

The birds and yard bunnies have taken to hanging out in my front yard when they're hungry in the mornings and late evenings. I like to watch as the cardinals, robins, sparrows, the occasional woodpecker, and the other birds I don't recognize on sight, take off and land, stopping to get their fill. 

The items  offered for their dining delight are a freewheeling mixture of clover, wild violets, wild strawberries and grass, along with the assorted bugs who like to hang around the salad bar. (I have given into peer pressure, and while I still cheer for the dandelions in my heart, I do pull them out of the yard so as to not incur glares from the neighbors who don't appreciate their flagrant beauty. I need no feedback from the neighbors to pull the crabgrass when its season arrives - that stuff doesn't share well, and is ugly to boot.) 

I find it interesting that while my avian friends do pass through my back yard, which is about fifty square feet of pristine grass (manually weeded to protect the bees), they haven't been lingering there. I'm guessing all those people who write articles in the eco-magazines are correct - the mono-culture of the grass just doesn't taste very good. I do know, from past experience, once the flowers start blooming in their beds, the birds will be visiting - but this is the first year I've noticed the way they shun the space until the blooms arrive. Food for thought.

These sights and the fresh aromas that accompany them have been helping to ground and center my soul. They help me to know all is not lost. Truth be told, I need the reminder.

I don't find much to like in the news from the outside world these days. I am glad I have a place brimming with positive proof the cycle of life is not completely broken to balance the bleakness portrayed there.

Here's to Spring. Here's to its life-giving new growth; its healing energy; the way it embodies hope fulfilled.

Good Is.

Growing

It's been two years since I got a starter from one of my daughter-in-law's succulents. I brought the bit of green home, stuck it in some dirt, and there it's been, ever since.

I've watered it faithfully, and it never turned brown, but it never grew, either. It sat quietly in its pot, neither growing nor dying, but just waiting. I can relate.

This past week, when I went to water it, I noticed something new about my quiet friend - there was a swelling at the top! After all this time, the plant has decided conditions are right to take a chance and to grow.

It still doesn't look like much, just a little bump of fresh green growth perched on top of the branch in the dirt, but it's there. Again, I can relate.

With the coming of spring, something inside has eased, and I have left the liminal space where I'd been lingering for the last two years.

I must admit, I'm a bit puzzled. My life doesn't look any different. I still haven't figured out what I want to do when I grow up. The difference is that this year, with the coming of spring, I no longer care that I don't know. Why the change, I'm not sure.

I've been waking up a little earlier, as I've wanted to do since retiring. Better, when I wake up, I don't have to have a 45 minute argument with myself about why I need to get out of bed. (I was beyond tired of arguing with me every morning...) There are no more foot-dragging I-don't-wanna-you-can't-make-me discussions. Rather, I open my eyes, spend a few minutes shaking off my dreams and orienting myself to the waking world, and get out of bed. I was beginning to think the concept was beyond me!

I no longer consistently run out of energy just before dinner. Turns out I can get a lot more done in a day if I can do some of it after 6 PM, so I've started to make progress on some projects. I have more interest in moving on; in figuring out options for things to do beyond my four walls. I've been reaching out to friends, reconnecting over lunch or dinner or coffee. 

Things are still messy as ever in the larger world. COVID has started its surge-of-the-month, and the drumbeats of war sound loud on the horizon. But within, something has healed, and I am beginning to grow anyways.

I feel a little - is guilty the right word? - for finding a sense of peace when there is so much upset in the larger world, but at the same time, I feel relief. 

Tomorrow will bring what it will, but I am able to enjoy today anyways.

It's a nice feeling. 

Alpaca Show

 

When you just KNOW
 the best bits are hidden
 at the very bottom of the bowl!

This past weekend, I took a couple of hours and went down to the Kansas City Alpaca Show with some friends.

Yes, the newspaper headlines still scream of the latest atrocities of war. Too many people were shot, and too many more are still struggling with the effects of long covid. Politics have settled down not one bit, and it doesn't look like the series of climate change crises sweeping across the earth will abate anytime soon.

But, here in Kansas City, people came in from Colorado, Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, and Arkansas. They loaded up their shampoo and their blow-dryers and their alpacas, and came to town for the big show. 

There were show rings and ribbons galore for the best and prettiest and spittiest and whatever-est animals. (I am clearly of absolutely no use when it's time to declare one soft, beautiful, fluffy or dreadlock-bedecked, animal better than another.) 

There were a few women spinning fluff into yarn, one making a sort of rope from her hanging spools. There were alpaca socks and soft animals and yarn and garments. There were dryer balls and a few books and a booth where you could buy a new leash for your alpaca.

There were several aisles of cages, most filled with animals waiting for their turn in the ring. I was honored to be there with several small children, so I took a three year-old by the hand, and we wandered off to whichever cage caught her eye to admire the wonders within. It was fun to watch - she was careful to look only with her eyes, but would put her face right up to the cage bars. Once, the animals inside were curious enough to walk up and peer back at her in return - she jumped back with a squeal; not sure exactly what they would do. (They just looked...)

It was a lovely spot of normal. So often these days, I feel like the entire world has spun off balance. I needed to be reminded there are people who live in a world that includes alpacas on a daily basis. It was good for me to see they are keeping on keeping on, caring for and loving their animals as they always have. 

Life, normal life, goes on. *whew!*