Though we have all been talking about the unseasonable weather, I felt like Rip Van Winkle when I went outside today. Did I sleep through March and April? Surely it must now be May. The sun was delightfully warm even with short sleeves which I never wear in March. I had a list of errands that could take most of the afternoon but the outside beckoned. In case I went back to sleep, I didn't want to wake up and have missed this sparkling day. I remember that I was excited last year when we had one nice day in April where I could cut back my non-stop rose bushes which gave them a head start on a good growing season. As I went to prune them today, they already had little red shoots starting to protrude. I pretended they weren't there and shaped them up.
As I raked the leaves away that had appeared since fall's last raking, I kept discovering little green shoots reaching for the early but soothing warmth. It was like they took a deep breath of the Spring air much as I had. Crocuses in bloom, daffodils stretching up, and offspring of my perennial friends greeted me. There was the wonderful aroma of fresh soil that usually doesn't waft until much later. This day may have just been a tease but it was the therapy that I didn't know I longed for. It gave promises of new beginnings, the resurgence of new life.