My plan, instead of taking a nap, is to start cleaning up yard waste left by the winter winds and snow.The nip in the air catches in my chest as I walk across the yard. Its the end of March for goodness sakes, and temperatures by mid-day should at least be above freezing!
Carefully I pick up debris from the flower beds so as not to damage determined hyacinths pushing through frozen soil.
I snap off old stems of mums and cut to the ground the ornamental grasses. I rake up the circle of straw that afforded my little dog a place of relief when the snow piled higher than she was tall.
In the middle of the drive is a fire pit where I deposit my gatherings to burn. Before I ignite it I pull to the side last fall's trimmings that are on the bottom, wanting to free any birds or critters that might be nesting within. Two fat black field mice groggily jump free and hop-skip to the tarp covered lawn furniture to hide.
The fire grows rapidly as scent and smoke rise. I add more fodder for the flames and become aware that under my hoodie goose bumps are forming as the sudden change in temperature warms me. I am reminded of the flames at the Easter Vigil and the spiritual goose bumps I get when the church becomes dark.
I toss onto the fire a fairly large branch from an arborvitae and am amazed by the sound from the burning scale like leaves...a sharp tinkling sound like splashing water.Fire and water...
A baptism of sorts on this cold spring day.
