Spring is springing at last, and I know from talking with some writer friends and colleagues that the lovely weather and the relief of having COVID-19 vaccinations available to all are raising spirits and boosting creativity. Hurray! I look forward to seeing (and editing!) the fruits of your renewed efforts.
In the meantime, I’m enjoying the beauty provided by my own yard. In front, the annuals are coming up, framing my light gray house with blooms of fuchsia, amethyst, and canary yellow. In back, my garden is producing lettuces—the spring green set into contrast by the red-leaved varieties—and herbs I’m using to garnish lovely, light spring salads. And our backyard chickens are laying eggs at a rate at first pleasing and now a bit alarming, seeing as how there’s only my husband and me to eat them. Everybody who visits our house now leaves with a carton of eggs . . . whether they want to or not!
May you be enjoying new life and hope as well.
Spring has come back again. The Earth is
like a child that’s got poems by heart;
so many poems, so many verses,
patient toil winning her prizes at last.
Strict, the old teacher. We loved the whiteness
in the old gentleman’s beard, its bright snow.
Now when we ask what the green, what the blue is,
Earth knows the answer, has learned it. She knows.
Earth, you’re on holiday, lucky one: play now!
Play with us children! We’ll try to catch you.
Glad, joyous Earth! The gladdest must win.
Every lesson the old teacher taught her,
all that is printed in roots and laborious
stems: now she sings it! Listen, Earth sings!
Rainer Maria Rilke; translated by Stephen Cohn