There’s an old saying: “He who works in the soil with his hands and heart is never far from joy.”
This morning, I felt every bit of it. Out in my front yard with the sun warming the ground, I trimmed back some of the winter’s leftover mess and noticed that my plants have started waking up to spring. My honeysuckle plant is young and new, having bloomed for first time last summer. It was a cold winter, so I was worried about it, but it's doing just fine.
I hear distant morning business as others get ready for their monday mornings. But I'm no longer part of that grind.
I spend my days doing as I please. And part of that is just spending time in the morning enjoying nature for however long I feel like.
The breeze was light, birds were hopping through the grass, and for a moment, nothing else mattered but the feel of earth, clippers in hand, and the soft sound of growth returning.
There’s something positive and peaceful about it. No rush, just the steady rhythm of the season changing.
