Spongy

I was carrying firewood from my woodpile near the garage along the well-worn path to the east porch of our house the other day. The snow had melted back from the south side of the house, so I walked along the melted part for a ways with my load of wood. The ground had thawed enough that the earth was spongy under my feet.

I’d like to suggest a metaphor like “astonished,” but, truth be told, I just kept walking. My body made note of the transition, though. I have walked so many miles in the summer months, often barefooted, on the lovely spongy earth that my joints were surprised while my brain didn’t seem to be. It seemed kind of nostalgic.

I like winter and always have, but the feeling of the give of the earth brought back a longing that us usually bottled up while the earth is frozen. So, happy pre-spring to all of you who share that connection with the earth. In about a month, the sap will start to run in the maple trees, and after that spring is well and truly around the corner.

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