GUEST BLOG: Feeling spring

To read more of retired Gainesville educator Jane Elder’s blog, Ozark Road, visit gainesvillemo.blogspot.com.

As I tell my friends, I have wintered well. In fact, too well. It seems as if ever since Thanksgiving, my will power and get-up-and-go have disappeared. Added pounds and lack of exercise have not helped my mood. 
But today – yes, today – I laced up my hiking boots and made a trip down over the north-facing field, into the woods. The sky was that unbelievable robin’s egg blue. Wispy clouds looked like the smoke I used to see as the trains pulled into the station in my hometown. I wondered if there might be a celestial locomotive up there in the sky, chuff-chuff-chuffing away.
This morning I got up early. Early enough to see the sliver of moon in the eastern sky. Did you see it? It was marvelous. I went out on the porch and stood by the railing, listening for turkey gobbling. I didn’t hear a sound, but Andy, when he went out a few minutes later, heard several down in the southeast ... probably in our neighbor’s field. It’s that time of year. Birds are finding places to build nests; little critters are ready to make forays out of their safe holes and into the bright sunshine.
In my trip down the hill, I had to be careful. There are lots of hidden rocks and holes down there, up above our creek. I can see my neighbor to the north’s house. Later on, when the trees leaf out, all of that will be hidden from me. I love the sycamore trees down in the bottom. Oh, to be a bird and fly off my hill to scope out the scenery in the valley!
Trees have minuscule buds on them now. Spring wildflowers will be popping their heads up out of the leaf piles before long. I explore all the nooks and crannies where I might see a little sign of bloom, but I’m too early up here on the hill.
Turning to go back up to the road, I discover that I have ventured down below the fence. This may be trouble for me. With a compromised knee and an artificial hip, I have to be careful about climbing and stretching beyond my limits. I’m glad no one is there to see me on hands and knees, kneeling as I push down the barbed wire and gingerly shift my weight over and onto the other side of the fence. What a joke! Glad I made it without falling on my face. I probably would still be there trying to get up when lunchtime rolled around.
Walking out in the open, back up to the house, I turn around to take in that gorgeous view of Caney Mountain that I love so well. 
Yes, spring is here. Or almost. And I’m feeling it.