In the early morning
well moistened soil, drunk with snow melt,
brings forth a rich, earthy, intoxicating smell.
It’s a stop-you-in-your-tracks scent
as if the whole neighborhood were a greenhouse.
This air lures us outside
heavy jackets left on the coat rack with wild abandon
as we step into sun and blue
with a chill in the wind
but nothing like what we’ve known.
This coolness speaks of warmth
just around the corner.
And somehow that alone
makes it warm enough
to walk unburdened by so many layers.
It’s not yet time for bursts of green and bloom
but the ground shimmers with possibility.
Very soon we’ll be dizzy with color
our winter-weary eyes wide
as they adjust to purples, reds, greens, and yellows
after shades of white and grey.
No charge for the this feast of the senses
just a willingness to walk the path that is before you:
tasting the air
and filling your lungs
with the rich smell of fertile ground.
