I thought I had taken quite a lot of photos today. At least, I have many vivid memories of the day, and thought for sure I had taken my camera out more often. But no, there are only three. Just three quick moments that compelled me to stand still for a second and shoot. And as telling as they are of what I felt worthy of documentation, what's missing from them is just as important.
First: the overflow nursery. Its three 100-foot benches are nearly full and we'll be building a fourth in the next couple weeks. I had just ducked back under the back plastic door, after pulling out some wiggle wire to let the plastic drop and air flow into the hot house, and caught this sight: the colorful pallet of spring plants is just starting to take shape.
So much is lacking from this particular moment, though: three volunteers digging out all the quack grass from the edge of the house in the early afternoon, my daily back and forth watering with a garden sprayer and long hose that doesn't quite stretch to all the plants (so I point it upward to arch the spray and just reach them), and an afternoon thinning party with Michael and four volunteers while I vacuum-seed this week's farm crops.
Second: The jumping spider. Just in the past few days, these little creatures have returned full force. They look scary at first, no doubt: fat, furry bodies, iridescent fangs, and quick, alarmingly far jumps to get around... But I've come to love them. I think of them as friendly, curious, and more like a goofy dog than a sharp predator. That said, I imagine they're great hunters, which is another boon for a farm like this.
These spiders have also become another harbinger of spring for me. I rode my bike to the farm today, and all along the way signs of spring were bursting: daffodils, cherry blossoms, bedstraw, dandelion blooms, and grass so green I had to squint to look at it. These little spiders are becoming just as important a sign of warmer, longer days as all the bulbs and blossoms I've traditionally associated with March. So I don't flinch anymore.
Third: the sky. It was unexpectedly sunny today, all day, with big beautiful puffy clouds. I took this photo near the end of the day. It happened because after hours of gushing about how nice it was with all the volunteers, and hours looking at seed trays and apple branches, and hours thinking about loving the weather as I moved about and tended to all the things, I finally stopped, and looked up.
I saw how the light struck each cloud, and marveled at the reflection of clouds on the greenhouse roof, and smelled plum blossoms in the air, and listened to Michael clipping branches and the freeway buzzing in the distance. And I stopped thinking about how much I loved the sky today, and for one fleeting moment just loved it.