Slow Changes

Change is funny, isn't it?

We devote a fair amount of our lives to resisting changes and then, at other points, we long for change so badly that we can hardly see straight as we wait for its arrival. Around these parts, we're feeling a little stymied - by spring, by life - yet no amount of willing change to occur actually prompts it. So instead we wait, trying hard to remind ourselves that if you look closely enough, you can watch things changing before your very eyes.

 

 Current ice out prediction: when pigs fly.

 The sun is out today (heavens be praised) and across the bay, neighbors have their laundry out to dry.

This is one of the longest pussywillow seasons in recent years. Some of the pussywillows are just starting to pop now.

 Exactly six years ago, this section of forest was on fire. Today, happy little conifers soak up sunshine.

Seedlings will be seedlings. In typical fashion, they have completely taken over the dining room table. Is it Memorial Day weekend yet?

We're finally getting around to spring tasks, like tidying up the woodpile, turning the compost, and tending to brush pile.

The chives I planted last year (who did not like being transplanted one bit) are holding their own this spring. In a few years, they  will have completely taken over the flower bed and I'll be cursing them most foul. All I want are enough blossoms for chive blossom vinegar.

 Why hello there, blue sky.

Little rhubarb nubs. As the first crop of the season pokes up, I'm reminded that it's time to start eating up what's left of last year's harvest. The not so bad result of this "pantry cleansing" was a blueberry pie yesterday. We still have green beans, blueberries, and oh so much cabbage hanging out in our freezer. So what exactly does one do with a gallon of frozen cabbage wedges? Suggestions most welcome!!