As owner and employee, I am declaring the First Day Of Spring an official Full Moon Fiber Art holiday.
Instead of spending my day in my studio, I’m outside raking my garden beds where small green plants are already struggling to pop through last year’s leaves.
Later I’ll go around the farm collecting fallen branches for our annual Vernal Equinox fire.
Yesterday I got this Mary Oliver poem in the mail from Hazel. Seems just right for today.
Now back to the gardens…..
Black Oaks by Mary Oliver
Okay, not one can write a symphony, or a dictionary,
or even a letter to an old friend, full of remembrance
Not one can manage a single sound though the blue jays
carp and whistle all day in the branches, without
the push of the wind.
But to tell the truth after a while I’m pale with longing
for their thick bodies ruckled with lichen
and you can’t keep me from the woods, from the tonnage
of their shoulders, and their shining green hair.
Today is a day like any other: twenty-four hours, a
little sunshine, a little rain.
Listen, says ambition, nervously shifting her weight from
one boot to another—why don’t you get going?
For there I am, in the mossy shadows, under the trees.
And to tell the truth I don’t want to let go of the wrists
of idleness, I don’t want to sell my life for money,
I don’t even want to come in out of the rain.