Seems like just a few moments ago we got the firewood into the woodshed for the winter, and now we must order more firewood to sit outside and season until October when we will schlep the logs into the woodshed, which is to say we’ve lived to see another March. Hallelujah.
Springtime. Our prune plum tree is sporting her first blossoms of the year. Prune plums hereabouts are an unpredictable fruit, and by that I mean there is no obvious correlation between how many blossoms our tree presents and how many prune plums will emerge and grow to fruition.
Will the gods grant our valiant tree sufficient warmth and the necessary pollinating insects to produce enough plums for jam? And will we manage to harvest the plums before the ravens do? We shall see.
Daffodils are blooming everywhere right now. How lovely and solemn they seem before they open to reveal their bright promise.
Always reassuring to see our lemon trees making new fruit despite and because of everything. “Don’t forget to feed us,” they whisper.
And here come our rose bushes emerging after their winter’s slumber, pinkish red in their infancy and soon to metamorphose into summer green on which roses will bloom.
The first rhododendron flowers on our two acres emerged a few days ago – harbingers of many more to come. The folks who owned this land before us planted several rhododendrons to give us gaudy shows every year, while on the fringes of the forest bloom the wild pink rhododendrons.
I recently engaged a drummer named Gabriel Yanez to play on two tunes on my upcoming album Hip Salon. He exceeded my fondest dreams of how my piano tunes might sound embellished with tasty percussion. What a fabulous percussive vocabulary he has, and how deftly he speaks with his drums. Hallelujah.
Speaking of salons, Marcia recently gave me a haircut and I feel days younger.
The only constant is change.
fin
El Camino Real from Todd and Marcia’s album Ahora Entras Tu