Let the Sun Shine In

We had a framed poster in the entry hall when we were kids...it was a tan background with a red round splotch intended to be the sun, and the words 'Let the Sun Shine In' splashed on it.  It occurs to me that it was truly an incongruous art choice for my parents, who certainly did not welcome in the Age of Aquarius or the hippie sentiment evoked by the words.  Maybe they thought it was a weather statement....

Anyway, how awesome was this weekend???? The sunshine, warmth and fresh breezes lured us outside for our 2010 inaugural breakfast on the porch Saturday. We plotted and planned over coffee and yogurt, fending off cats convinced we must have something worth sharing (I offered a taste of coffee to Mots, who was unimpressed and appeared to be rather offended), periodically interrupting ourselves to play 'name that bird call' as woodpeckers and titmice, cardinals, chickadees, nuthatches and phoebes enjoyed some backyard speed-dating. Work felt like pleasure as we built a simple two foot fence around the raised veggie beds to keep the aforementioned felines out of them. The weather was incentive enough to keep right on going, and when we settled down to our first grilled dinner of the season and surveyed our queendom, the iced ginger beer felt especially well-earned. The 'lady' is once again keeping serene watch now that Linda has stabilized her. The trellis and fences have been cleared of morning glory and hyacinth bean remains, forgotten bags of mulch have been reassigned, the Winter-abandoned wheelbarrow--last seen as a forlorn, half-buried splash of red in the snow--was pressed into service once more and now stands ready and waiting for the next workday. The trees, shrubs and perennials have all been assessed to see what survived Winter, and there was a bit of pruning here and there. Alas, we've lost five baby fruit trees, but we just might see some cherries and--dare I say it?--a few apples this year, and just maybe the Reliance grapes will join the Concords we savored last Fall. Ferny yarrows and masses of strawberries are already coming back green and strong, and echinaceas with magical names like Harvest Moon, Twilight and Ruby Star all have new growth just beginning to reach above the soil. The Coppertinas are covered in coppery green leaf buds, and the blueberry bushes are clearly enthusiastic about this season. The flowering quince can barely contain herself; she's dripping with pink buds shamelessly aching to burst open to the sun's caress. And isn't that what Spring is all about?