The primrose march of eggs shimmer shimmying in moonlight . . . all creatures employed in making the night fertile with their mad coupling . . .while wind blown seeds find earth and water and welcome for their roots. . . and with this symphony of life unfurling, nowhere a concern for it all being too much or too quick or not sensible in its proportions or its timing.
I know Easter is more than a month off but my chickens are laying lots of eggs now in shades of green and brown and reddish and so I am at the mercy of these shapes. And there is that rampant growth in nature all around, from blossoming trees to roses leafing out to flowering weeds threatening to engulf my flower garden. It’s not hard to get in that frame of mind that I am the sole civilizing influence preventing my yard from returning to some forested home for wild animals. Charming as the forest home sounds, I prefer the light and planned cultivation of at least a small portion of this acre where I live. But I have to say that I look forward each year to this season when mother nature becomes so wildly abandoned, pulling out all the stops and modeling what true passion is all about!