By Maryanna Gabriel
The froggies are out. They hum in a chorus as they mate, here in the forest. I love the sound, ever a signal Easter is here. This morning I was out walking early, and there was the addition of percussion. First one woodpecker tapped from on high in a Douglas Fir. Then another. And another answered from a forest further away. It is as if they are saying, "I am here." A forest orchestration.
I am also thrilled a wild lily I transplanted is blooming. It took a couple of years for this transplant to find the courage to show itself. Little purple violets are also peeping shyly through the rubble of winter as I strive to clear the garden.
I have found myself emerging from an intense three months which are over, thank goodness, as I round yet another term at Dalhousie University working on a creative writing degree. Corners seem to be needing attention. There is dusting, cleaning, polishing, sorting, and washing of all sorts to do. It is spring after all.
I am enjoying the bustle of new life surging around me after the long winter. Buds are on everything and yesterday I planted new potatoes. It is so good to see the fresh green and a dusting of pollen from the alders is falling softly everywhere, on everything.