It turned out to be a bright, sunny day. The crocus are in full bloom in the front bed and the hellebore are opening wider and wider. The lawn guys came and gave my yard its spring cleaning. I ate an early dinner out on the screen porch. Life is good.
Crocuses are beautiful, aren't they? Needless to say we won't be seeing them for another month in Nova Scotia, but it's all the more exciting for that. People often write as if Springtime were entirely a period of burgeoning new life, but I see it the other way: after the storms and darkness there's a straitened hush out there, and it's a bit warmer, so you go out and see that everything is truly as dead as you thought. It's all mud, dirty ice and broken fences. And only then you see dots of colour here and there, crocuses growing right up through the gravel, and it's alive again.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."
2 comments:
Gorgeous!
[sends love to Hecate]
Crocuses are beautiful, aren't they? Needless to say we won't be seeing them for another month in Nova Scotia, but it's all the more exciting for that. People often write as if Springtime were entirely a period of burgeoning new life, but I see it the other way: after the storms and darkness there's a straitened hush out there, and it's a bit warmer, so you go out and see that everything is truly as dead as you thought. It's all mud, dirty ice and broken fences. And only then you see dots of colour here and there, crocuses growing right up through the gravel, and it's alive again.
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