I awoke to something new this morning, a forgotten sound. The wind was moving through leaves. It always takes me by surprise, this time of year. There’s the winter version, too: the first time I hear the wind waving bare branches. That sound has more of a roar to it. The leafy version is, of course, softer, with all these lovely tender vanes brushing one another, ruffled by moving air.
Along with the undoubtable beauty of new leaves comes clots of oak pollen stems and clouds of irritating green dust. This results in the inevitable post-nasal gunk, and a green film on every outdoor surface. Even the indoor dust turns green with the sperm cells of trees. Sorry, folks, but it’s all sex, sex, sex. All those lovely flowers waving about so attractively, well, they are attracting!
I’m pleasantly whipped from yesterday’s garden tilling. It’s another reliable spring surprise to really feel how sedentary I’ve been, by asking the muscles to power up. This is Garden 2.0, and I am encouraged to be starting with better soil than last year. My indoor seedlings are more than half successful, promising great tomato and broccoli crops, cilantro and spinach, cucumber, and maybe a few more things. (I’m still hoping those peppers will sprout! )
I’m grateful for this life where I can slow down and listen to and feel the rhythms of the earth. Tonight I’ll listen again for the lullaby of the leaves.