When you’re home,recovering from ‘the pre-Spring crud’. you think about things…
The Snow Drops (Wedding Bells) have almost peaked with their blooming. The Fire Bush is ablaze in blooms. Now the Jonquils are yellowing the landscape wherever the ever warming earth has allowed.
Flowing like a river, brilliant & golden,juxtaposed against the gentle green of the early March,pre-spring grass, verdantly grows. This just prior Vernal equinox bloom is fluid & following the lay of the land, as if an artist’s paints have spilled across pastures,fields &
homeplaces, long abandoned.
Surely,the Buttercups & Purple
Iris’ are next.
In the midst of this palate of color is heard the soft wooing of Doves,only seeking a mate for this new season of coo-ing.
That Dove Song – Love song brings to mind the ques that Fathers & Grandfathers & Great Grandfathers taught.
“When you hear the Doves early spring mating calls,it’s time to put the corn seed in the ground.”
With the ground prepared & the corn rows laid by,you carefully drop 3 corn seeds in the ground
spaced a hoe width apart. Then
begins the long wait ’til that tasseling tall green yields its golden, fresh churned butter colored treasure.
Sweet corn !
Perhaps my fever may have spiked or I need to cut back on the Lemon water. And the chest rubs with mentholatum.