It's NOT the lush green grass springing up anywhere. What I see is more like this.
Truthfully, that's from April 28 of last year. But we have more snow and ice than that today.
But I do know it's very nearly spring. Yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon, my husband put on a coat and his boots and went out to wander around. He came in grinning the grin of a man who likes living and working out here. We have had the first of our "Omigod there's a lot of general BRUSHING that needs to be done" conversations. Full disclosure: the "Omigod" is my line.
Trees are down and need to be cleared up. Trees that used to be saplings aren't anymore and thus need to come out from under powerlines and the edges of driveways.
What he calls "brushing," and I call "work outside" or "yard work" or something else, will occupy much of our energy, both physical and mental, for the next two months. I enjoy it--the talking about it, the thinking about it, the doing it. Fortunately. Because there is plenty of it to be done. Ladies and gentlemen, sharpen your loppers.
Spring may not have arrived yet, but after yesterday's walk and talk, I think we can see it from here. Does that mean we're nearing the demarcation line between winter and spring? Maybe. Ah, the glorious in-between of maybe.
