Spring Orchard ...

© Joan Z. Rough, 2008

This is what I saw one morning about a week ago when I woke up around 7 AM. Overnight the pear tree had burst into bloom. A few mornings later one of the peach trees burst forth and daily the scene changes. Now the daffodils at the base of the trees are at peak bloom with yellow trumpets that dance in the breeze. Spring is truly an amazing season with a newness each day that outdoes every other season.

I remember March and April mornings when I lived in Vermont. There would still be much snow and ice around but through the nights we'd keep watch for the first lamb or angora goat kid to be born . Nine times out of ten the new babes would arrive at some secret moment between my sleepy eyed visits to the barn. I would linger watching mothers and babies getting aquainted with one another and marvel at the miracle that each birth brought to those still cold days. These births were a sign of things to come. I knew that somewhere under the mantle of the earth, rootlets were beginning to awaken. As the snow and ice melted, they'd jump to attention, pushing stems, then leaves and flowers into the the world from the dark womb of the earth.

Here in Virginia we haven't the harsh northern climate to deal with. The birthing of spring seems more gentle and steady, without interruption from blizzards or below zero temperatures. Still, sometimes I miss the drama that northern climes bring to the change of seasons. And though I do have more than enough to attend to these days, I still miss the lambs and kids, their soft bleating, the primal warmth and smell of the barn where the first signs of spring always appeared.