It seems that overnight the world has exploded into colour. The peonies are out in all their frilled glory. Purple Siberian irises. Spirea and soapwort. Even the boring old beans are a light emerald as they unfurl and stretch toward the sun. Where once it was a dull grey-brown in my yard, it's now practically lush and tropical.
I have been gardening for decades now, but it never ceases to amaze me every spring. How does this pinpoint of a seed possibly produce a gigantic flowering plant? Or a tree, for that matter? How can I put one little bitty seed into the ground and harvest five pounds of green beans from it? It's miraculous.
I took Brio to the park to chase the ball around today, and in spite of the great weather, we had the whole field to ourselves. There's nothing so beautiful as my fuzzy golden pup streaking across the bright green expanse toward me, legs pumping, ears flying behind him, his amber eyes lit with joy. He played until he was so tired he was literally staggering, and finally he collapsed at my feet, stretched out on his side...with the ball still firmly in his mouth. Clearly he was saying "Just give me a sec -- I'll be right with you!"
Like Brio, I want to stretch my arms out to the sky and just run and run. Free of winter clothing! Free of snow and wind! Free of bitter cold! Free of...well, um, not free of the pounds I put on over the winter. Maybe not running, then, so much. Maybe a brisk march around the field. That'll do.