Spring time

 

Spring time, again. And again, we are locked at home, hoping this time it will be short, but knowing that it's impossible to predict how long it will last this time. 

The picture above was taken by my daughter, last year on a Saturday we were working outside, preparing the ground for planting our vegetables, as we do every year.

And now, it's the first day of spring, as it is every year.

There is something so conforting in knowing every year, spring will come again, followed by summer, and so on. It is something that keeps me grounded, maybe because it's one thing we cannot control, but we can predict.

And I bet it was more so for my granmothers and grandfathers - the regular alternance of seasons, meant it was time for the work of the season: year after year, the prepration, planting, harvesting, rest, would happen, would be something predictable.

I find these thoughts so very grounding. And I found myself buying a book, I haven't read since high school - "Le Opere e i Giorni", (Works and days), by Hesiod. The title says pretty much all - what must be done when. But that, it's the inspiration to talk about other matters, both profound and mundane. It's almost a meditation which springs from the tasks at hand, but then touches and includes so much more.

Maybe it's my secret (or not so much) dream to go back to my roots, which gets stronger every sprins. I dream of having a farm, of living off what I can grow. I know probably my version of farm's life is not realistic. Granma used to say it's so very hard, and that's why she decided the most important thing for her daughters was to get them an education. But still, I cannot stress enough how well I have always felt, since I was little, being outside, working, observing and taking all in.

Who knows... maybe this will always be a dream.

Or maybe I'll be able to make a plan, and transform the dream in a goal.