The earth is round.
The cycle spins.
The grass is greener than you’d expect, this time of year.
Melting snow turns to water.
Zook yard turns to mudhole.
Have you ever dug a hole in January?
All that rich, dark earth, splendidly flecked with earthworms.
I dug a lot of holes on Saturday, and stood baby trees in them… gifts from the Arbor Day Foundation, received too close to snowfall and kept in water since. I hope they will live. They stand straight, rooted in abundance, luxuriating in the unseasonably warm wind.
Shari, who had geared herself up for four to six more weeks of winter, has snuffed spring, and is dogging it.