Springy Things & Upswings

Today I went foraging for breakfast. Inspired by a recipe in Edible Grand Traverse magazine for poached eggs over wilted greens, I began in the garden where I found overwintered gifts of spinach, kale, parsley, onion tops and lettuce. 

As I snipped the bright green spinach leaves, they were as buoyant as the mood overtaking us overwintered humans at this time of year.

Grocery store produce does not have that same quality, that same feeling between my fingers of ... what's the right word?

“Springy-ness” comes to mind. 

"Life force” jumps in next. These freshly-picked greens have a spirit that has long left the body of standard grocery store fare. 

It feels so good to be in the garden, I regret that my first cup of coffee wasn't enjoyed here.  Alas, table and chairs are still hibernating in the barn.  I mentally add this to the task list I’m preparing for my brief reign on Mother’s Day. 

Scanning the other beds I snip only the green tops of onions. The sight of soggy bulbs would spoil this reverie and I have already had to block the image of the cat's gift on the pathway. 

Today's remains were a robin's in the exact location as yesterday's field mouse. I'm am struck by a mulitple gratitudes: for the cat's gesture and ingenuity, the absence of house mice and the wheel of life that spins this little farmstead. 

A quick lap around the yard yields a fistful of dandelion greens and daffodils.

Back at the kitchen I run icy cold water over my bounty, quickly sealing some for a vase and a pot. I amuse myself over the thought that I just poached some water to poach an egg poached from the chickens.

In the time it takes for the pot to boil on our old electric stove, I can journal in front of an audience of approving daffodils. 

I couldn't ask for a better start to the day. 

And I couldn't ask for a better life than living year-round in Benzie County. 

Don't tell anyone. 

I am not a proponent of a year round economy. 

I love the seasonal swings; 

the abundance and the dormancy;

the wittling down of non-essentials

to the essentials. 

I glance out the window 

to see if the emerging green has begun to block my view of the Betsie River

One of winter’s many gifts. 

It’s hard to tell without the contrast of white snow, 

and for a nano-second I miss it.