I am sitting outside at one of our picnic benches placed around the yard (I have to stay relatively close to the airport in the house to still have internet) and I am listening to more bird song than I can identify.
The air smells fresh and fragrant with the apple trees in bloom carried on the breeze. My mother’s house today smelled of lilac and it only took a quick glance through a back kitchen window to see my grandmothers stand of lilac bushes in bloom. I really must bring some of those here.
As I've sat and worked, the full strength of day has given to evening and the sounds of birds have been replaced by the sounds of the river. Frogs are crooning, a beaver splashes in the water, ringneck teals fly in to settle for the night and the goats are wandering closer and closer to the house for an evening scritch or maybe just a taste of my apple.
I began the violet harvest today with the youngest daughter. Her little fingers are perfectly suited to such a delicate task. Her pail was full before mine. I was bit by some stinging nettle, which slowed me down, but reminded me as I reached for the right leaf to rub on it that I need to harvest this obnoxious herb as well. I guess I know what my project is for tomorrow.
