The Strong Constant

I must be a traditionalist.  While I am enjoying the unseasonably warm weather it makes me nervous.  80 degree days in March.  I like my "normal" Indiana climate:  The one 60 degree week in February that gives the much needed break to the "grey slumber" and then the week of icy revenge in March that reminds us that nature truly does have its tricks and its rules.   The guessing in April are we truly done with the last frost or big snow.. "can I truly start my garden" Is the question that lingers in my mind as I watch birds building nests. 

But this year.. I feel like I am being lulled into a false promise.  80 degrees in March.  I just don't trust it.  I have to admit I feel like the small town girl that noticed the stranger in the grandma's greasy spoon.  All dressed nice and fancy,  selling his wears with a smile and a flirt. His bill of goods seem to good to be true.  I never did trust that guy.  I grew up with my grandfather and father.  

Handshake/ your word meant a promise a contract.   My grandfather wore the same jeans, blue shirt, brown boots and hat to work for years.  He chewed his cigars and was covered in grease by the end of the day.    He smelled like tobacco, dirt, motor grease, sweat, manure, and pumice soap.  I loved that smell. I loved the leather earthiness about him.  He was authentic and true to me.  He could walk outside smell the air, feel the wind and know if in climate weather was coming. 

There is something about the familiar and constant that feels safe and true.  Something in that authenticity and right timing that rings within the soul that says this is the way things are suppose to be.  Much like the perfect old blanket or pair of shoes.  Everyone has these things, these symbols.  Yet all things change over time, the snug blanket wears down, the soles on the shoes get thin.  These changes always make things not as comfy or familiar as they once were.  This could be a passing phase, a shift to be note worthy.  Maybe it doesn't mean anything.  Maybe it does.  

Truth be told I know I have no power over it.. Just the wondering of thoughts and questions of is this a fake salesman.. or just inevitable change.. So I keep looking and balance my skepticism with the enjoyment of what I have before me.

I look for the robins to return every year and feel a sense of peace when I see the first one, hear their song.   The bird that has returned to build his nest in our soffit and temp my cats with his close proximity to the roof and tree  is being very industrial in his approach to building a safe and secure nest.  The volume of sound in the morning and evening has went up a few decimals with the songs of various feathered parties, that are on a lay over or deciding if this is their summer home by the water.

The pond is calling to have  a line tossed in with a lure.  I can hear it say just for a few minutes come sit by my bank.  A fish will bite.. or the bobber will bounce and then the game begins.  I cuss at the small bluegill that steal my bait, yet enjoy the sport and the excuse to go for another bigger fish.. This one will be it I tell myself.  The pond accepting my company as if someone has awoke and is glad to have a peaceful companion.  The glass top reflecting the saplings, cattails that are beginning to grow again and the sky from above.  

Tonight I may choose another course for the pond.. not a peaceful existence but that of a jubliant 3 year old Great Dane Lab.. Splash.. muck muck.. shake is the rhythm to his pond walks.. Kiernan tramples in.. and his grin become bigger as he swooshes around.  The pond graciously welcomes him also.. the red wing blackbirds aren't as happy about his disruptive ways and chatter about .. I believe saying "if we knew we were going to have this type of disruption in our neighborhood"  .."Whatever will the Martin's think.."

The garden needs to be marked and tilled.  I have extra straw bales to make a cold frame just in case I am being lured into a false security by the current weather.  So hopefully by the weekend the lettuce and spinach will be in the ground in a small raised bed surrounded by straw bales.    peas will be planted in in circles around trellises to climb.  The fruit trees will be pruned.   And then my focus goes to the grape arbor..

Our snow birds sing on.. The grass continues to green, the flowers bloom,  The ornamental tree out front of the house is in full blossom.  The sun rise and sunsets are long and beautiful.  Each night you can hear a sigh as we look around.  It's a long breathe of tranquility and harmony,  So while the weather may not be normal.  The internal life on the farm is.  Yay for the strong constant.

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