Springsense

 

This photo is fairly ordinary, but from my perspective, it displays a beautiful sight:  the snow is gone. 

We still have snow around the place, but the hold-out areas are not surprising---under roof eaves and in the shade. 

For the most part, however, the majority of the winter's drop of white stuff has vanished. 

Bill and I were noticing yesterday morning that some grass is even starting to turn green. 

Spring seems to be on time this year. 

As does the indecision season or "what's to do, what's to do; so much to do."

Now is the time of the year where our eyes see too many things that need to be done with too little time to do it all. 

We have broken free of winter, but we are now shackled by the indecision of just where to start on all those spring "must do's." 

It's potting soil and plant time, it's clean-up/tidy-up time, it's painting time, it's horse winter-hair removal time and it's just "get out there and enjoy spring" time. 

Plus, we're also in the transition period of no more excuses to sit inside and hibernate.  

Our minds are telling us that more daylight means more you can do outside and the more exhausted you're gonna get because you've been taking it easy and loving the couch and TV for several months. 

Yesterday, I finished my housework, did some planting in pots in the green house, tidied up the last of the flower beds and made plans to paint some fence during the afternoon sunshine and warmth (which, of course, we all know is the spring teaser that's not gonna last). 

Of course, in between all that stuff there was the need to sit down on my beloved couch and watch my TV, mainly to give my old body a break before the next outdoor task. 

Eventually fence-painting time came, but the plan for the fences never materialized.  

For two days in a row, I've opened the paint bucket to find a big, solid white chunk swimming in oil. 

Two days ago I put the buckets out in the sun, hoping the paint would soften as it warmed up.  Surely it would be ready to go by yesterday afternoon. 

But not!

Bill says to take those paint buckets down to North 40 and ask them to shake 'em up with their machines. 

So, I probably shall, which adds one more thing to the scurrying around list---those runs to town to get stuff so you can do stuff at home. 

With no barn paint available, I pulled out the spray cans and picked out a metal gate at the end of the lane to paint. When I started, the gate was three colors---blue, white and rust. 

After sticking with it for about half an hour, the gate is mostly blue.  I'll do another touch-up today.

Another dimension of spring came last night when, right after dinner, the deer began to appear in the hay field, like they do at the same time of day about this time of year every year. 

When the day had ended, between Bill's experience tending his fire in the woods and my trips down the lane with the camera, we tallied up eight deer all  together. 

Six made their way through our field, while I never saw the others. 

And, now that the deer are making their twice daily treks around the place (I saw some passing through the woods this morning), dogs noses have gone into overdrive. 

This morning's first trip down the lane in the dark, triggered some barking when some of those deer scents were so strong that Bridie thought she needed to scare them off. 

And so, with the disappearance of most of the snow, many other aspects of spring have exposed themselves in rather dramatic fashion.

Idle bodies are becoming working bodies. 

More temptations for dogs's noses. 

The appearance of wildlife in the fields.  Their appearance near the gardens will come later.  

For now, we get the gardens started.  Our challenges of keeping the deer out will also come later. 

For now, the deer look pretty in the fields. 

Ahhhh, spring!

Fortunately, the weather's going to change and the excuses for those couches and that TV set will return. 

Bad weather; March Madness:  a good team. 

We can rest our bodies up for the next burst of spring sunshine, indecision and work. 

Happy Tuesday.