Spring

Oh, the joys of spring! It can hardly be described! Everything seems so alive, so full of spirit, so vibrant and full of colour. The plants, trees, and grass quiver in the wind, sway with the breeze, and seem to be rippling with laughter due to their sheer pleasure in coming to life and breathing the fresh air of a spring morning.

These were my very thoughts while I was out walking on a bright, sunny afternoon, in the hayfield behind the woods. The air was scented with the fresh breath of pines and ferns, the birds were singing -perhaps serenading one another- and I was mighty glad to see the little buds on the maple and birch trees.

There appears to be a restlessness everywhere and in every creature, a longing to get out of closed and stuffy places, a craving to release your spirit and be careless and free, a wish to soar on the winds and sing at the top of your lungs.

Even the usually placid farm animals are touched with symptoms of spring fever. The sheep, not the lambs, mind you, spring about the fields madly, hopping every which way, making their llama guardian sick with worry and nearly driving her crazy. I cannot begin to describe how the goats act, so I shall leave them out for now. The cows, the sleepy, idle cows, surprisingly run and jump in the meadows alongside their calves, and not one living thing is still.

When walking in the fields and meadows, I am afraid to step on the ground for fear of crushing the life out of a newly-grown blade of grass, an energetic grasshopper, or a lively cricket. And the following poem is recalled to my mind, time and again:

Fueled

by a million

man-made wings of fire—

the rocket tore a tunnel

through the sky

and everybody cheered.

Fueled

only by a thought from God

the seedling

urged its way

through the thickness of black—

and as it pierced

the heavy ceiling of the soil—

and launched itself

up into outer space—

No

one

even

clapped.

How can one dare to hurt such a little thing that went through so much to rear its little self into the world of the living and is not even appreciated? I try my best to watch where my boots land, and more often than not, I end up sitting all huddled on a rock where I cannot even accidentally harm anything, and just watch Life.

Life is a wonderful thing, and watching things come to life is even more of a magnificent experience. You see the firm little buds blossom into beautiful flowers, you behold the bare trees begin to be clothed in quaint, baby leaves, you watch birds teaching their little ones to fly, you start hearing the buzz of flies, the chirping of crickets, and the croaking of frogs, you observe the newborn animals taking their first breath of life; and every time you experience all this, every single time, you are astounded by the miraculousness of it all, and you can only praise and glorify the Lord.

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I was thinking of starting a log, sort of like a captain's log, only I'd call it A Farmer's Log. This would be where I would write about the everyday things that happen around me on the farm, and sometimes it would be interesting, and sometimes boring. The benefit of this is that when interesting things happen, they will be duly noted, and when things happen that I want to talk about but that may seem boring to my family, I can express it safely -without annoying anyone- and relieve my mind.

Perhaps I will collect a week's events with the dates, and then post it here. I would be glad to hear your opinions, dear readers! For the present, I remain,

Your good friend,

Ellen Hamilton 💖