It is something primal. In spring we surrender to the feel of common dirt, the sacredness growing things.
So much happens when spring finally arrives. At once the world blooms forth, demanding walks in the woods, inspection of tiny leaves and the pushing forth of life.
I won’t say that we are accomplished gardeners at Rock Eddy Bluff Farm. Often we battle weeds to a standstill. Still, vegetables arrive on our table that cannot be bought in stores.
We battle on each year amid a riot of daffodils in our lane and a covering of green fast overtaking the barren hills.
The painting is from a favorite of ours, http://www.valeriane-leblond.eu/