who, the trees! do you hear the birds gurgling?

today, J woke me up early to help him get out the door and on his way to the hills, so, after sloppy sandwiches were thrust into plastic bags, and paragliders packed into the car, i found myself standing in the yard, one eye open, in my pyjamas, waving absently at the receding subaru.

i turned, continuing to breathe, as is my habit, and my nose woke up suddenly -- the first part of me to do so.

the smell was gorgeous, sweet, delicate, tender. i sniffed ravenously, wanting to eat the freshness of the as yet unpolluted morning. i trudged a few steps towards the house, but missed the intersection that would lead me up the steps to the door, continuing, instead, around the side of the house, past the Freak Parsley.

i nodded solemnly to The Parsley (such a force of life seems to demand this acknowledgement. there is simply no stopping my Parsley, and i am a girl who pays her respects where respect is due). i passed the pretty-but-slightly-scary-in-an-extra-terrestrial-sort-of-way stripy, curly tulips and shuffled across the back of the house towards my new garden along the north fence. it's my route. i like to greet my plants in the morning. to check on them. on the way, i stopped to peer under the blooming cherry tree to look at my baby strawberry plants. all was well according to my one, half-opened eye.

then, somewhere between the cherry tree and the garden, my ears woke up and i was suddenly aware of the birds. how could i have missed them earlier? i felt surrounded by their delightful cacophony, and blessed -- like i was in a garden in paradise. i closed my eye and listened to the sweetest, most miraculous music i have ever heard in my life and felt grateful: for having ears that work, for spring, and mornings, and this little rented house with the huge yard, for weather and trees and birds and all natural phenomena, and for finding myself in the middle of it.

my toes communed with the baby slugs in the grass, the slugs that will grow to be as long as cats' tails and that will eat all my strawberries.

i opened both my eyes, this time, and took in the bovine feast that lay before me. the most tender shoots and leaves. spring always makes me feel like grazing. it's that pale green colour. i saw early morning golden light dance on each moist blade, illuminate each delicate blossom, saw it reach down to heat the dark chocolate earth where i will plant my little crop, and saw it lovingly encourage my pea sprouts to exceed themselves.

i wished i could spend my whole life at 7:30 in the morning, right here.

i'm shocked to think of how often i forget that this nourishing universe is at my doorstep. it's so easy to fall into the trap of believing that my day to day struggle with my own life, and the people and circumstances within it, are the only reality around me.