Signs of Spring, with slight ruminations, and a lot of alliterations

Last time you heard from me we were in the grip of snow, (all right, sort of snow then),  and frozen pipes about town.  Since then, we’ve had eighty degree days and movement toward the next season.  It’s likely a little early to be celebrating full blown Spring, but when it’s warm enough for T-shirts and sandals and serious dog swims in the lake, well, you just get to thinkin’.  March in Texas is always capricious, and you’d best not be getting too serious in the garden, excepting in preparations, of course.  I still managed one more fire today, when the latest damp cool front blew the warmth out of the air and I just couldn’t get comfortable without turning the heat back on.  Nothing resembling real sweater weather, but I still donned moccasins and a flannel shirt, and yes, made that one more fire.

Along with the weather, other changes and events have been afoot.  I’ve been writing many passages that were blog worthy, but still am not of a mind to contribute those trains of thought just yet, though trains have certainly been in the mix.  Seems I shook something loose from the memory ethers of the universe several weeks back, and those high school days, both the good and the bad of them, have been holding audience of late.  There’s been a lot of water run through the river since then, and I’ve learned a lot.  Still learning, as should we all, until we decide to lay it all down.  I look at the past – weigh it….. Look at the future – consider the possibilities…. Sit in the present and try ever not to squander it.  Watching the news, as usual, makes my head hurt, and so I retreat into what brings me peace.

I found it today while taking camera in hand and just walking about the place, looking for the changes that are beginning to make their presence known.  Surely there will be time to ponder and pontificate, so for now I offer you up pieces of almost spring, while I consider projects and goals, To Do’s or Maybe Not’s, and entertain thoughts of wanderlust and road trips, as the sun is trekking its way across the horizon in front of me.  The days are getting longer now, and Spring Equinox is within spitting distance.  I know I love the warm more than the cold, although the fireplace offers me the cocoon inducing moments that come with winter.  But I’ve had enough hibernation, and I moved some dead tree limbs today, making way for the new.  And I’ve already conceded the losses to the cold – some succulents and some of the cacti are gone forever, also my hummingbird plant, and the cactus garden is too dreadful to even consider photographing.  No lack of things to do.

But in the midst of new questions and whatever is around the corner, here comes Spring. (Remember you can click on the pics to make them bigger.)

Magic the Peacock has been growing himself back out from his psychedelic turkey alter-ego of molted feathers.  I wish he had better prospects for his daydreams, but there are no hens on the horizon for him.  He’s been a most eligible bachelor in Peacock World for the ten or so years he’s been around here, but he’s evidently not so swell at manifesting.


I love having a peacock around.  Well, there is the matter of prodigious amounts of peacock poop, but it seems a reasonable price to pay for the purely miraculous thing that is him.  It’s hard to believe that such colors can exist, and he provides me with some damn fine feathers to adorn my hats.


And so here he is, on the make, hoping against hope that his spring fantasies will somehow appear walking down the path, as he appeared to us those years ago.  It hasn’t happened yet, but as it is with such things, Hope Springs Eternal.  You can always tell it’s as good as Spring when he starts hollering.  They make great watchbirds, squawking incredibly loudly in distinctive calls, also being set off by big trucks going by or loud metallic noises.  And have you ever heard the sound they make when they vibrate their feather display?  Well, you just should.  And then he gets all big and bold and challenges the deer and the squirrels and the cats, or me – aggressively scuttling toward the subject of his offense.  Leaves you damned speechless, or laughing.


I have a “professional shot” of him that one credible professional photographer proclaimed to be the best peacock shot he’d ever seen.  This isn’t it, but still….. How can such a thing even be?


And if you’ve never had a chance to inspect one up close, the reverse side of said bird is as amazing as the front.  The whole hydraulic system that lifts those many heavy feathers has to be seen to be believed.  And then there are the rafts of downy fuzz for further adornment.  Being around a peacock humbles me, and makes me believe in miracles.  But then, most of the animal kingdom does, one way or another.  I wish we human types could live up to our potential for humbling behavior instead of ….. but… but…. no, stepping off the soapbox before I get riled into a rant.


The Nandinas are pretty plants, seeming dainty and feminine to me.  There are a couple around here that were purposely planted, and then some volunteers back by the greenhouse.  They’ve recovered from being eaten down to nubs by the deer in the midst of the drought, and now are somewhere between winter and spring.  Red and green, they look like Christmas still.


And they have beautiful berries, especially visible when they drop their leaves.  I suppose I can go ahead and think about and have a late Christmas, since I’m so busy working during Christmas, (then sleeping through it when it actually does happen), that I tend to get in the Christmas spirit about mid-January.  Christmas is staying around a little longer it seems.


It’s gotten warm enough to open up the greenhouse, but not nearly safe enough to spring the plants (no pun intended) from their winter confines.  They are patiently waiting for fresh breezes and spring rains, and the trimming of their battered extremities, and root stretching room of new, bigger pots.  Freedom calls, as it does to all of us with the beckoning of renewed beginnings.


I got wild and crazy when I went to Home Depot for some hose couplings and new nozzles.  I went too close to the nursery, and it got me.  I love the color of geraniums.  I’m not ready to pot them yet, not nearly.  But I got one anyway.  One must have inspiration.


And talk about Hope Springs Eternal, for both me and the peacock.  Every year I think it will be different.  And every year I fail miserably as a tomato farmer.  It’s either too hot.  Or too something.  I’ve got a decent green thumb, but it turns black when it has anything to do with tomatoes.  Maybe, just maybe, this year will be different, so I bought two of them.  At least they’re starting out promising, and they’re not even in the ground yet.  If I can just keep them alive till then.


In keeping with the promise I made to myself a few weeks ago, celebrating life and love with fresh flowers instead of dead roses, I continue on with the current bunch.  Sunshine yellow seemed appropriate I thought, and so they are.


The calendar will soon turn another page.  We’ll be that much closer to the Equinox.  The warm is on the way, and the seasons will change, and so may we, if we wish, and if we work for it.  Chances and choices, there for the taking.  Choose well, and be happy.

Spring’s coming, y’all.  Ready your soil, both of the earth, and the soul.  And be particular in your source of fertilizer.


4 Responses to “Signs of Spring, with slight ruminations, and a lot of alliterations”

  1. From the mountains of New Mexico I welcome signs of spring. Thank you Alexa (and Magic) for helping keep the HOPE alive!

  2. mary margaret Says:

    the photos are fabulous….

  3. Wow…..he’s gorgeous!

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