After what seemed like an eternity of rain, sunshine has been a welcome change. The lawn is still soggy and the dirt is wet ten ladders deep, but Ralphie and I don’t mind. We are grateful to have our knees and paws caked with mud and our bodies filled with rays of sunlight.
I’ve been gathering debris, plucking a few weeds (where the soil is drier), and inspecting plants in the perennial garden and veggie patch. To appease Ralphie, I mosey through the green pasture toward the winter stream. Ralphie follows in crazy-quilt fashion, bouncing here and there as if playing hopscotch. Should I spy ducks hunkered down between grass blades at the water’s edge, I divert Ralphie toward another direction, not that he could apprehend a fleeing duck.
Whatever outdoor activities we engage in, sunshine and passionate work or play has a way of making our appetite for life explode.
It’s nearly 7:00 p.m. on a Sunday evening. Supper has been prepared and consumed. Beyond the window, past the keyboard where I am typing, the sunset throws a last bit of drunkenness on swelling vineyards, tender willow buds, and a spread of brilliant white chrysanthemum paludosum. Ralphie is sitting at the other windowsill, to my right, watching the hens peck at the dirt before retiring to their perch. The windows are closed. But like me, I’m sure Ralphie can smell the clean wash of recent rains. The wet dirt mingling with gentle temperatures. The awakening of springtime. It’s a welcome change. Copyright © 2011 Dianne Marie Andre