Songs of Spring

The ancient language of nature

Sunny blue skies, blankets of clouds. Morning sun lights the forest, gardens, and fields—scattering daystars across the ponds.

Robins march across the lawn—stopping, tilting their heads to the ground, listening intently—then pouncing. Choruses of migrating birds atop alder trees sing forth greetings. Chickadees flit and dance through the firs.

Wild plum blossom perfume floats on the breeze. Daffodils and tulips are nearly ready to make their appearance. Currant blossoms—pink lanterns—whisper to bees. Hyacinth blossoms wait to colour the world in pinks, blues, and lavender.

Japanese cherry tree buds sway in the breeze, on the brink of bursting into songs of beauty. Pussy willows peek at the world, winking at the pond.

Hellebores sway—pink, burgundy, white—beneath the climbing roses and Douglas fir. Lupin star leaves, jewelled in dew, emerge from under last year’s leaves. Ranuculus and anemone in the greenhouse, join in the songs of the garden.

The farm is slowly waking, serenaded by the day-songs of birds and the starlit chorus of frogs—heralds of spring.

A time of dreaming, planting, and calling in hope has begun.