Chapter Six

The spring is alternately pleasant and painful in its assertions. Much anticipated warmth and sweet zephyrs flowing over fragrant blades of the most tender grasses.Waving in the newness of their untamed state of unbridled growth, bowing to the threats of storms,violent, twisting monsters that scourge miles of hopefulness and life with fear, humility and utter devastation, managing to be, singularly. unscathed in their place atop the soil. So green and pure is the color it takes ones breath away and cleanses the senses of all that has past, in blue and white, and death and cold. We barely remember what was called winter. It is like having dived into a water so deep, that to surface now, in the spring, is likened to breathing again, after certain suffocation at the bottom of the pool. Surely, God intended this extreme shock of life and it's color, or we would never manage to go on year after year. Only after gasping in the fresh clean air can we enjoy it so completely.

Singing. Loud nonsensical trilling and chirping. What are they going on about? I know. Yes, we all know. The leaves are making an appearance now. Some sooner than others, but they do it  just the same. While watching one particular tree make it progress, another is making it's own. We only notice when we stop watching the one or the others. That is how it is. The music of the wind changes, from the hollow refrain of a dirge, to the crescendo of the chorus of the leaves, loud and wrinkled, not unpleasant, but not altogether lovely either. Much like youth living on their own, in need of ironing. Sleep now will be bothered by this opera, but only because we will have the highest luxury of sleeping under open windows.
The air, that brushes so lightly over our faces, has a hint of green and the lightest purple and purest white on its tendrils, dusted with the tiniest blossoms of lilac, cherry and locust. It's intoxicating to the senses, lulling us into a sleep so sweet it is hardly believed anything could ever be bad again. Days are beginning to transform at a marked pace. Sun and warmth encourage the growth of all manner of life. Dandelions and grass cannot be contained as well as our anticipation of a more gentile existence  within the confines of this world. Easier, slower. Opportunities for lolling and sloth always to end your day, or engage in , mid afternoon in the shade of a large umbrella-like tree.
So many people, lured by the displays of colorful pots of hope and joy, called flowers, erected in great pyramids in front of the stores, are busy going to and fro, deciding which plant or pot to purchase. All in their excitement of spring and newness. Accumulated wealth in the form of moss and fertilizers, trays and bulbs, wheeled to the hatches of cars and trucks. "Come on, let's get going." We have waited all winter for the opportunity to control our place in the world, and we must make haste while the sun is shining. Even the masses that don't live in the country set out to plant around their homes, the loveliest of flowering bulbs and dress their concrete animals in their seasons finest. These are the people who have their heads on straight. Bulbs don't die, Concrete doesn't die. Life is only interrupted while contemplating which outfit to dress your goose. What are they doing in those houses? What are they planning?
We have a neighbor. Her property is across the street from ours. One section of it has a fairly steep incline, so years ago she decided to make this a flower garden of gargantuan proportions. How lovely for us! Now facing our home is a bulb spectacular that practically cripples her in her attempts to have life there appear in all its perfection, always. Cars come from near and far to view this garden. It is magnificent. My cats especially love it. We are grateful for her garden even though it causes our lack of attempts, in our flower gardens, to be magnified. Now we do not even attempt to grow flowers. Why should we? Even we do not look over here. A great man once said, "It is better to live across the street from the wonder, so as to have the better view." Truer words were never spoken.