April 2006 ..........

It is lovely today! In the mid forties, life is starting to return to Cottage Hill Farm. You can actually smell the earth warming and thawing.You can feel the heat and steam (Well, maybe not steam) rising in the areas exposed to the sun. In a couple of weeks we will enter the "mud season". Truly, in Vermont we have a mud season. Thick and sticky, Sorta like a chocolate mousse. It is the best planting medium. Vermonts' growing season is short, but vigorous. You can also almost "hear" plants growing. "Stretch......!the little leaves are unfolding, opening to lift their little young faces to the "Sun God". New plants are replacing old ones. Unknown species are peeking through the old standards: Hollyhock, blackeyed susans, columbine. They are not really visible yet, But, I know they're there, just waiting to spring back to life. Right now they're covered in last years dressing. Like a snake shedding its' skin, or an old dress being replace with the latest fashion, my day lillies are starting the race first.

Spring is not here until you see the red wing black birds. They travel in "packs" and arrive in the hundreds! Noisy little buggers, they are a welcome site and thus, it is "official". Spring is here!

I am itching to get my hands dirty. A six month winter, does that to you. Getting started cleaning up last years spent leaves is first. Gathering up the "loppers", rakes and hand sheers I am now armed and poised for battle. Let the battle begin.

As I begin I notice a small red squirrel. She is now has a "handle". I will call her Delihla. Red squirrels can be a bothersome creature, but now she seems harmless. She regards my work. I regard her. She darts back and forth. Up and down the elm tree. The only one left of this road. Dutch elm disease leveled them all decades ago. I will monitor her behavior. If she remains "lady like" I will leave her alone.

Mrs. Hall is here. She is supervising me. Her hair is piled on top of her head, whisps of silver have replaced the gold. Her skin is tanned and wrinkled from years in the sun and work in the fields. Her friendly disposition hides the pain of her loss. Beth was "taken to God" during the winter of 1846. The influenza outbreak took many during that year. Beth was three. It was quick. Too quick. There was no time say good bye. Within two days it was over. But not for Mrs. Hall. She took to her bed for a week. The other farmers wives brought food and held her when she cried. They washed and brushed her waist length hair that was then gold. It reflected her european heritage. Sometime there was no need to talk. They had lost love ones, too. They were part of a sorority. A very sad sorority. One you didn't want to belong to.

Mrs. Hall points to the purple "balloon" plants that she planted years ago. She tells me: "I carried the seeds in my carpet bag. It tooks us three months to get here from Britain. I was pregnant with my first son then. The morning sickness wasn't as bad as the sea sickness. The ship rolled constantly and it took me a good two weeks to get my "land legs" back. Her eyes cleared, returning her to the present.I had hopes these seeds would sprout. I had my doubts, but they're tough, like me. She gives me a "wink".

Returning to my reality, I work until the sun starts to go behind "Mr.Big", the pine tree. Delihla, the red squirrel, darts up his trunk and rolls into a little fur ball. Leaving one eye open, she says, "Good Night".

Going in the house, I say goodnight to Mrs.Hall and promise to join her in the morning. Time for a bath......