"Well," said the librarian, scanning the bar codes on my books, "you can check out all the gardening books you want, but with this much rain you can't even plant a single seed without it washing away."
I guess in a way, she was right.
But I'm a glass-half-full, look-on-the-bright-side kind of person.
Sure, we've had a fair bit of rain and gloom...
everyone in the valley has been complaining.
But just look what you see when the sky clears and the sun comes out!
The old barns and cosy farmhouses, the plowed fields and acres of fallow land shine.
Sunshine streams through spring flowers and makes me want to sing!
I meet my friend and neighbor, Steve, walking past his farm. Steve is out with his Nikon, too, grinning because he's spotted a hummingbird. We talk about basil's finicky preferences for water and soil and whether or not my dill will flourish this year. Steve's produce is legendary. I am waiting eagerly for his farm stand to open. If you're in the Skagit Valley you can do no better than stop by Dunbar Gardens for veggies more gorgeous than any florist bouquet and pack them into the handcrafted willow baskets Katherine makes from her own willow.
We talk about how lovely the sky is in spring, how close the clouds seem, and once again I catch myself thinking that there is no such things as ordinary life.
Truly we are surrounded by miracles.
The willow itself makes a beautiful sight as I round the corner...
We greet familiar friends along the way
and stop to smell the fresh crisp air, to enjoy the everyday miracles that surround us.
I pause along the road again to marvel at that amazing green you only find in spring and then head for home.
There is something infinitely satisfying about spring and the new life it brings.
I am reminded of Easter coming on Sunday, and thank God again for the miracles in my so-called ordinary life.
