Spring. We have a love/ hate relationship.
I hate that it looks BEAUTIFUL outside......sunny, warm, inviting. But in fact it's really still stinking cold out there. As you can see by this picture, the clothes look as though they are just hanging on the line. But if you look closely, you notice that they are FROZEN STIFF! (Just pretend that you don't notice the snow on the ground.) It's March and the breeze feels warmish in the afternoons. And the roosters are acting all frisky. The March wind should dry my clothes, dang it! Not freeze them into clothes-sickles! Love/ Hate.
I hate the yellow, stark oppressed fields just fresh from the melt. My backyard landscape where my clothes- sickles hang is still flattened from snow. And dry, brittle branches of the bushes sound like hollow sticks in the wind.
But new buds are beginning to swell on the tips of small tree branches. And if you look quickly, you can glimpse a returning robin darting in and out looking for a mate.
I think spring is mud and ice covered puddles.
I hate spring because it makes me grab at my flapping jacket with red, chapped fingers against cutting south winds while feeding chickens and rabbits who are dependant on me.
But spring is also contented chickens murmuring quietly as they fluff feathers over newly laid eggs. Spring is female rabbits pulling at incredibly, soft, tummy fur to line their nests in preparation for new babies. Spring is a very slight carpet of the smallest sprouting tomato seedlings in my basement.
Spring is a conflict. I hate it. I love it.