Spring

I like the way the soil kind of stings against my fingers as I work in the garden. The cold, wet earth reminds me we how close this moment rises from winter. I wonder if the winter hibernation isn't some basic instinct of mine during bouts of cold weather? I curl up on the couch more often. Read more. Talk Less. My sleep is somehow deeper under the insulation of snow.

As the daylight lengthens so does my to-do list. Some special breath about springtime awakens my ambition. These mornings, before the alarm, I stay still just a minute to hear the birds outside. I push back the covers with a rush of energy.