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Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Getting Dirty or Spring, Wherefore Art Thou?
I miss green. I miss the lushness of soft grass underfoot, of trees fully dressed in nascent finery. It's coming, but like a celebrated diva making a glorious entrance, spring is going to wait until she has everyone's full attention, or perhaps when everyone is chanting her name. Here I go: Spring, spring, SPRING! A repost from my first year of blogging, to remind us what it is like when spring makes her long awaited debut.
The hum of the tiller harmonized with the birds singing their gossip from the tops of the trees. Several stray bees danced a dizzy pattern near my head and I ducked to avoid them. The muscles in my husband's back knotted and twisted through his sweat soaked t shirt as he forced the swirling tines deeper into the ground, causing a pinwheel of black loam to churn outwards.
I used the rake to claw loose the detached strands of grass, pulling them into a heap at the corner of the large patch we were preparing for a new planting of featherweight flower seeds. The green aroma stored in the now mangled blades of grass saturated the air with fragrant liberation.
I knelt to dislodge a few rocks from the loose soil and the velvety softness of the fine earth captivated me. I plunged my hand further downwards until it was covered to my wrist with the rich blackness. Deep stillness and peace infused me.
A wiry grass snake, disturbed from his resting place, did not even fluster me as he undulated past my arm in pursuit of more settled surroundings.
A few more swipes with the rake and then the temptation overrode everything else. I slipped off my shoes and let my toes sink into the supple cushion of sod, more lush than the finest fabric. The rake fell away and I dug my feet all the way in. The warm top layer of dirt gave way to the cooler, moist layers. If I had paid for a spa treatment, I couldn't have been more luxuriously cosseted.
I knelt all the way down and inhaled deeply. The dirt, something I fight so heartily indoors, whispered gently to me. Old as the planet itself, it spoke of stability, of constancy, of the life that used to be and of the new life yet to come.
I plunged my hands in once more and felt something small and smooth. I pulled it up. It was a winsome brown button. I smiled. This was also a plot where my grandmother and my great grandmother before her tilled their gardens.
And that great continuum of what they put into the land and what it gave back to them, and what I was putting into the land and what it would give back to me, moved onward through its steady course.
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Oh Shelly I have my fingers in the dirt too you always have me right there. That brown button is very cool and I am sure your Grandma probably lost it while playing in the dirt too:) Hug B
ReplyDeleteButtons: I know it came from her or my great grandma. I love to think about those who came before us who had their fingers in the dirt, also!
DeleteThis makes me want to know the button's story. I always wonder those things when I randomly come across an old object like that. I find myself wanting to know its entire history and how it came to rest there.
ReplyDeleteOptimistic: Exactly! If only it could talk...
DeleteFirstly, I hope you saved that button!!!
ReplyDeleteSecondly...the richness of your post - I was there with you, curling my bare toes in the sod...drinking in the fragrance of freshly upturned Texas soil!
I would've been upwind tho...that sweaty t-shirt smelled!! [kidding!!!!!]
HOOTIN ANNI: That button is a true treasure now- I will always keep it. And upwind- most definitely!
DeleteI do not have my fingers in the dirt but I do take care of indoor plants. Your blog kind of woke me up. I sooo needed that.
ReplyDeleteMunir: I so look forward to the lovely wake up call that is spring!
DeleteThank you for drawing my attention away from winter for a wonderful few moments. What pleasant reveries this has invoked, even as I look out yon window and behold the most recent layer of snow. On top of snow, on top of snow.
ReplyDeletevanilla: I think this winter is going to be one for the ages...
DeleteHi Shelly! Here I sit in my sandbox frustrated, wondering why I can't write nearly as well as you. Given your splendacious, magnolious (Yes, I used a thesaurus) command of the English language and talent as a storyteller, reading your stories is like getting a brain massage. I remember this piece from your first blogging year and it was a pleasure to read it again. As I recall, my original comment echoed your observation about the irony of our relationship to dirt. Indoor dirt is an enemy that we fight to eliminate while outdoors it is a friend that nurtures and serves us.
ReplyDeleteThank you for enriching minds and touching hearts with your words, dear friend!
Shady: What kind words, my friend! Thank you for spreading such joy into my life today! And I love those new words. You write as well as anyone here in blogland!
DeleteThe smallest objects can connect us with long ago, can't they? That button would be a treasured item in my life, too.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful prose, Shelly!
jenny_o: Those small things can be more precious than gold. And thank you, friend~
DeleteOh, so beautifully written, Shelly. My house was built in 1940. I've been here 4 1/2 years. During those years of yard work I've found three small toys in my backyard. I keep them on the rail of my deck and always wish I knew more about them.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
Janie Junebug: Oh, what a joy to look at those toys and imagine the hands that have touched them and the hearts that have delighted in them! I'm glad they are in your hands now, appreciated. Thank you!
DeleteI love spring! I'm looking forward to getting outside and doing some yard work.
ReplyDeleteSherry: I'm holding my breath waiting for it to arrive!
DeleteThis is so beautiful, it's poetic. Way to use the word "cosseted." Perfect word choice in that sentence. You have a knack for that, as I've told you seventy-eight times already, and counting. :-)
ReplyDeleteAs we are buried in snow out my way, we cannot wait for spring either. So my family joins your chant: Spring! Spring! Spring!
Be well.
Janette Dolores: I love that word! Don't get to use it much, but it's terrific the way it rolls off the tongue. Oh, I hope you all get some good weather soon! And thank you, friend!
DeleteMy God, Woman, but you are a beautiful writer. I was transported to a very nice place. Thank you:-)
ReplyDeleteThe Chicken's Consigliere: You made my day- thank you!
DeleteIf the button could tell us the tales...
ReplyDeleteUm, we are enjoying quite the balmy days around here in the Philippines. Coolest past few months on record. Sorry to rub it in...
Hugs and happy highways,
Kelley~
Kelley: Oh, I'm so glad you all are having great weather- someone should be! (We have had some beautiful days here and there, but it's been very unseasonably cold here!)
DeleteThis is beautiful, and would make a great Chicken Soup for the Soul book on Moms if you could relate her gardening to your cultivation of her long lost button.
ReplyDeleteLinda: I might just try to do that- thank you!
DeleteHi Shelly. Oh, how I love that penultimate paragraph. It must be wonderful to be on the same land as previous generations! A beautifully written tribute to Spring. I can almost smell it in the air! I think we've all had enough of Winter now. We certainly have over here, with all the terrible flooding, and I know that a lot of my American friends are affected by heavy snowfall. So I shall call Spring's name as well!
ReplyDeletethisisme: I always feel such a connection with them when I have my hands in the soil, knowing they did the same thing. I especially hope and pray good weather for you all, my friend- the flooding is atrocious there. Good days are coming!
DeleteAhhh, this writing is one I remember with such love. The soil in Texas sounds so similar to the soil I experienced as a young person in Michigan. Rich, soft, deep, fragrant. Here in North Carolina, I struggle with heavy red clay, which is just right for sweet potatoes. But it just doesn't feel the same. Or smell the same. Strangely, when I am in a plane flying from the north to the south, the sight of the red clay is like a welcome mat to a place I've come to love with all my heart. The details of your story connect me to an image of my dad at the tiller...who used to work without a shirt in the summer sun, a white scrap of cloth hanging from his back pocket to wipe the sweat. I'll join you in the chanting...come on SPRING!
ReplyDeleteJenny: Oh, I love that image of your dad- you come by your growing and gardening skills from your parents, then! I really enjoyed what you said about flying over and seeing that red clay- a true banner of love, beckoning you home. You've filled my heart with wonderful pictures this morning. And yes, come on, SPRING!!!
DeleteWe are buried under a mountain of snow, and at the bus stop this morning, my first grader was wishing for spring. I reminded him that without the snow, he wouldn't have the snow cave he worked so tirelessly on yesterday, and he smiled. This post has me in his earlier shoes, pining for warmer weather, but in the very best way. I may have to plant some indoor herbs, just to take the edge off. Lovely imagery, as always. Do you still have the button?
ReplyDeleteAmy: Sometimes I wish we could experience snow in the way you all have it, but I DON'T think I could take it for long. My admiration truly goes out to you. And indoor herbs are a pleasant, useful thing to help coax a little springtime indoors when it doesn't cooperate outdoors. Yes, I still have the button, too!
DeleteMy first thought is you are just trying to tease us up here in MN.
ReplyDeleteMy second thought is how Magnificent our God is. How it can be so different in so many parts of the world all at the same time. Something definitely to be thankful for! Thank you Shelly!
Jamie Jo: Oh, I love that! Now I'm even more thankful!
DeleteI love finding snakes! Not too many in my garden. It is the spiders that just freak me out. the "garden spiders" are huge up here!
ReplyDeletewe are getting tons of white today! There is nothing like the smell of dirt. nothing.
Christine: Snakes- eeeeek!!! I would have so much fun in snow- but then I've never been stuck in it for weeks or months!
DeleteI remember reading this post - so beautiful!
ReplyDeletekaren: You've got a great memory!
DeleteAn evocative piece of writing, Shelly. I'm so ready, and this week we had a little tease until this morning. Yesterday I saw bright green baby leaves on one tree in our subdivision. It's almost here!
ReplyDeleteCarol: I'm wearing flip-flops- got my toes done- so ready!!!
DeleteHow beautiful! You make planting sound beautiful and luxurious. That was not how I felt when we were planting flowers earlier today...I should have read your lovely words first! Though the final result did make me smile.
ReplyDeleteAs did your last line of this post :-) xx Jazzy
jazzygal: Planting isn't all fun and games, but I do really love most of it!
DeleteShelly, you truly have a gift!! I am almost persuaded to get outside now and start digging in the dirt. How I would enjoy digging my bare feet and my fingers into some rich, dark soil, but unfortunately, we have a hard, lumpy clay here in north Texas. I love the line about the dirt you fight so heartily indoors! :-)
ReplyDeleteNonnie: Oh, how I love getting down and digging into it, putting new life in- and spring is coming all over Texas, even in your northern part, right?
DeleteThis is just beautiful Shelly...
ReplyDeleteWe are all tied to the earth, even if we don't often feel the connection. On that day, you sure did.
I used to drive tractor pulled plow on my grandparents rancho. In addition to how the soil felt, it also had an amazing rich smell to it. I loved to crush large clods of it, in my hands. Your words took me back to that place and time. Thanks for doing that for me.
Pat: The aroma of freshly tilled dirt is unmatched anywhere. I'm so glad you had that experience with the tractor and plow. I wish every kid could enjoy the same~
DeleteDearest Shelly;
ReplyDeleteHi, my dear writer friend. OMG this post is SO beautiful♡♡♡ I was trying to get all of your wonderful phrase and thought commenting later. I get a bit busy and I still need time to enjoy and write proper comment, my friend. The button must be a real treasure for you now (right?) I smiled the word you used "featherweight flower seeds". Haha, my boxing lover husband let me check the division of the weight with pc p;)
I PROMISE you to get back here after I totally could get this BEAUTIFUL spring post♬♬♬
See You Here again maybe tomorrow;
Sending you Lots of Love and Hugs from Japan to my dear friend in America, xoxo Miyako*
orchid Miyako: Thank you, my dear friend, for always, always being such a lovely and faithful commenter! I do have that button and will always treasure it. I'm so glad you found out about the featherweight, with the help of your husband. Mine had to explain it to me a while back. I hope you are starting to have springlike weather in your beautiful country!
DeleteDearest Shelly;
ReplyDeleteOMG; I found 11 words which I didn't know. Haha naturally it was hard for me to enjoy this marvelous writing fully.
I truly admire your beautiful metaphoric expressions so much, my dear friend.
Firstly, checking the unknown word 'diva' made me really happy to find how greatly you started this longing for spring to come post. The way you faced with soil was impressed me as well, especially the aroma part♪ You might find it funny but I LOVED to read the part "A wiry grass snake, disturbed from his resting place, did not even fluster me as he undulated past my arm in pursuit of more settled surroundings." I found it sweet for the snake.
The best part for me was the last paragraph 'moved onward through its steady course'; the simple garden work turned into marvelous reminder of your grandmother and great grandmother. How sweetly written♡♡♡
Our friend thisisme taught me the word 'penultimate paragraph' p;)
Thank you very much for sharing this literary work again(*^_^*)
Sending you Lots of Love and Hugs from Japan to my dear friend in America, xoxo Miyako*
orchid Miyako: I am touched and humbled by your sweet, kind, and amazing comments, my dear friend! I am also so impressed with your diligence in digging for the true meanings of words and metaphors. Your perseverance is incredible! Thank you for your kind words, and also for your friendship. It means the world to me!
DeleteHoly cow Shelly you sure know how to paint a pretty picture! I don't dare enter my back yard to start the spring cleaning because the first order of business would be to clean up a winters worth of dog doolies - I'm not ready for that to start yet, haha - Ok so its not a winter's worth, but even a few weeks of avoidance seems like an entire winter of accumulation. Three dogs can really do some business!
ReplyDeleteSaimi: Oh, I don't envy you that job one bit!!! I know what stacks up just from our one dog...maybe you could hire a bulldozer???
DeleteDear Shelly, a lovely reposting. I can see that you've always been a fine writer. The following words are proof of that: "he undulated past my arm in pursuit of more settled surroundings." Peace.
ReplyDeleteDee: Thank you, my friend! And that snake did freak me out just a little, but the rest of it was so lovely that I stayed put!
DeleteA beautiful piece of writing, really summing up that feeling of being part of the earth which I think might be lingering in most of us. And how nice to find the button and remember your forbears!
ReplyDeleteJenny: Deep down, we all still do have that connection, no matter where we live. Thank you!
DeleteAlways a delight to read your work Shelly. Blessings. :)
ReplyDeleteJust Be Real: So glad you are back in blogging land, my friend!
DeleteThis is beautiful! I tell you all the time, but I have to say it again I love your writing.
ReplyDeleteI am hoping spring comes soon too, I have been cold for too long.
Dawn: Thank you! I saw some beautiful little yellow and purple flowers blooming here. I am so hoping that is spring knocking at the door...
DeleteI am ever hopeful, even with a prediction of ice/snow on the way this weekend. Spring has to arrive sometime. You are such a descriptive writer.
ReplyDeleteLinda: I thought we had spring here, but woke up to a big blue norther blowing in. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteSurprisingly, I haven't longed for spring as much as so many other around the country, but as I sat reading your words, I suddenly have a feeling of, "I can't wait!" You've reminded me of what we will soon experience.
ReplyDeleteI like your inclusion of your grandmother, great grandmother, and the button. Do you remember what inspired you to write this lovely prose?
Anita: We've got tiny shoots of green coming up- I know it won't be long! I think I was inspired to write it because to me, there's nothing like that initial plunge into the fresh earth with fingers, hands, toes, or whatever!
DeleteI stumbled upon your blog - I enjoy reading it :) Thanks for sharing. I blogged quite steadily years ago, before life took over in many directions...reading your posts reminds me of the world I left behind for a season. Blessings to you :)
ReplyDeleteChristie: Thank you! I'm headed over to yours now~
Delete