Easter is past and a lovely time it was.  Now Spring lies before us with so many things to do it makes the head spin.  Because of the mild weather and all the melting snow, things have greened-up nicely.  Our daylilies are up several inches, daffodils on a south-facing bank are blooming and the deer have stopped coming down   Apparently, their food sources on the hill are sufficient for their needs.  Turkeys have separated into flocks and are less frequent visitors.  I expect the hens may be sitting on eggs.    

It is good that there are so many wonderful signs of Spring, because my life this week has been made much harder than usual by the purchase of a new computer.  Not only are the procedures for finding things quite different, but I have lost my correct Facebook persona; I’m told that what comes on my screen, currently, is a ghost persona from one of my hackers.  Getting my correct one back has, so far, been impossible.  In my panic, I asked people to re-friend me, which probably wasn’t the right thing to do.  This will take someone who is much more savvy about technology than I ---- which would be almost anyone.  Thus the down-side of today’s conveniences!!

Leaving technology aside, along with outside spring tasks, there is the traditional huge job of spring-cleaning.  I’ve read about people who do this with thoroughness and gusto; beating rugs, scrubbing walls and washing windows.  I’m not one of those, as most of you know.  There are days, though, when a brief spurt of energy will urge me to start tossing out and stashing away.  While our granddaughters were here for Easter week, they went through the “dress-up” hamper that has been part of our toy room for about 15 years.  I had mentioned that it was probably time to get rid of that.  And in their sorting, the dress-up clothes for little ones suddenly became vintage clothing that they could use.  I love recycling.  We have a church yard sale coming up in June, so that is an open possibility for all sorts of possessions we no longer need.

Sorting out, recycling and cleaning, force one to determine what is beautiful and necessary enough to remain.  And that determination is quite different for each person.  What is, to any stranger, a clutter of photographs on the walls is to me, being surrounded by family.  A friend makes collages of objects on her tables; stream-washed stones, antique gold spectacles and a charming little bowl.  They would mean absolutely nothing to others ---- they might even be called clutter by some.  But to her, they speak of good days and serendipitous finds.  In my home, and in the homes of my extended family, you would see many items of painted tin and wood ---- “Early American Decoration”, termed toleware by some.  This is because my mother was deeply into this art form, painted beautifully and gifted her children and grandchildren with many trays, document boxes, chairs and tables ---- all painted by her skillful fingers.  For many this would be just too much --- but for us, it brings into our homes the beloved personality of a mother and grandmother.

In cleaning, I have occasionally tossed something that I later regret tossing.  But I’m more inclined to keep too many somethings in case I or someone else might need it later.  This is the sort of thinking that also needs an occasional cleansing; I do not have to be prepared to fill every need that comes along.  In whatever way you visualize spring cleaning, may it be a good and exhilarating experience for you this year. There is refreshment that comes with moving some possessions on out and re-purposing others ----- just as moving furniture gives one a whole new perspective in a room.   A person’s home should be a reflection of who they are.  And it should be full of spaces and items that make one happy.  Home is where we go to be re-fueled after spending ourselves out in the world.

Even though there is much turmoil in our world (a normal state for this earth) and uncomfortable uncertainty regarding the on-going pandemic, there is also much beauty and goodness in existence at the same time.  Just in my small community, there are many people who are helpers --- who make the world a better place.  All the volunteers for the local food cupboard put in hours of their own time to make food available for those who experience food insecurity.  When the vaccines came along, one young woman I k now spent time on her computer for weeks, locating places for people to get the COVID shots.  Our pastor did a daily Lenten reflection available to anyone on Facebook ---- a time to listen to a story and to hear a blessing that somehow made the day better. Another person works as a volunteer, year-‘round,  helping people make their way through murky health insurance claims.   The trend for several years now, has been fewer people volunteering for their communities.  Fire companies, emergency squads, churches, civic groups all have trouble finding people to help. I would hope that this trend reverses itself.  But even those who don’t necessarily become members of a group, still manage to show personal consideration for others with many little acts of kindness --- sometimes recognized and sometimes not.  I think the goodness adds up to a far greater total than the ills of the world.  Of course the spring weather this past week has given all of us better attitudes.

When we get early warm weather, as this week’s weather has been, it is SO tempting to plant garden.  If history repeats itself, however, and it often does, my Bibb lettuce will emerge just in time to be bitten by frost if I plant it now.  I know that in Zone 5b one should not plant annuals until late May.  So --- to soothe my longings, I have planted my five varieties of pumpkin seeds in peat pots and will try a row of peas in the garden.  I would guess that Kerm will also have trouble waiting and will be out planting potatoes too soon.

Gardening is a wonderful way to adjust one’s perspective on life in a good way.  Nothing in the world seems quite so bad when one is planting seedlings in the dirt and hearing bird song all around.  This is one of the lasting things I learned from my mother.  She used her garden when she was happy, when she was bowed by grief and when she needed to get away from life for a bit.  As a result, her gardens were landscape paintings in soil instead of on canvas.    Mine are not nearly as artistic, but they fill the same needs for me.  This little verse by John Tyler Petee* is excellent sense.  Pray for peace and grace and spiritual food; for wisdom and guidance, for all these are good, but don’t forget the potatoes.   Of course, since my preference is flowers, I’d say “Don’t forget the violets!”

As I listen to the red-winged black birds (gorging themselves on sunflower seeds) I am taken back to spring where I grew up.  Our farm tended to have what are called vernal pools or streams of water; areas that would dry up during the summer and fall but support life every spring.  A small stream was the birthing place for clouds of tadpoles who would later be the booming frogs in our pond.  I spent hours building little stone dams in that creek and catching the tadpoles for a brief sojourn in a jar with holes poked in the lid.  I usually was persuaded to return them to their own environment after a day or two.  And further on down the lane were several acres of woods   where the golden marsh marigolds grew.  The leaves of these are edible --- they are quite peppery.  But the butter-cup yellow of the face-up flowers against the dark green leaves and moss of the stream bed spoke “SPRING” like nothing else.  And just above that pool was a hill-side of white trilliums ----  incredibly beautiful.   I can’t keep the marsh marigolds alive here, but I do have a small patch of trilliums back in a shady corner of the garden ---- to keep the picture of that hillside clear in my mind.

Spring always brings back the poem by Robert Browning**, “Pippa’s Song”, that our fourth-grade class, with Mrs. Powers, learned:

“The year’s at the spring; the day’s at the morn; morning’s at seven, the hillside’s dew-pearled.  The larks on the wing; the snail’s on the thorn; God’s in His Heaven ---- all’s right with the world!”  All of us, in our own little ways, can do what we can do to make this true.  Happy April!

Carol may be reached at: carol42wilde@htva.net.

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*John Tyler Petee ----American pastor, astronomer, school superintendent, teacher and poet.  This quotation is from “Making Fun”  1822-1843

**Robert Browning ----English poet and playwrite; one of the foremost Victorian poets.  1812-1889