The Days Seem Long, but the Years are Fast

Spring will officially arrive Friday…..finally! The weather(storms), time change, and the change of the seasons definitely is an adjustment for me. The time change has an effect. Not necessarily an easy one. I just can’t get going daily. Turn around twice and it seems like it is time to start winding the day down. There is a saying….. the days seem long, but the years are fast. I don’t know how true that rings for me. Some days zip by very quickly, some drag on. Same goes for the weeks. But one thing seems the same………… the years are fast.
The daffodils, forsythia, and tulip trees are abloom! So pretty this year. With all the rains the grass and weeds are growing quickly. When I look out flowers are popping up everywhere. I will do my best to live in the present and savor each day with the good, and beauty it brings. I will manage my aches and pains and try not to complain. Things don’t seem as carefree as they did when one was younger. That said, there is a different type of feeling of freedom. No hustle and bustle with the daily concern of a job, with Russ rushing out the door at the crack of dawn daily making a living. And, me up at, the crack of dawn ready to tackle home and garden chores. The buttercup will soon be in full bloom in the garden. Each new day continues to creep degrees warmer. The hummingbird feeders and yellowbird feeders are in place waiting the birds to appear.
This slower pace allows one to appreciate nature.
I close my eyes and remember a warm day as a little girl on The Lane.
The air was heavy with the sweet scent of the wild honeysuckle vine which covered the fence behind our small white framed house on The Lane. Remembering back in time when each new day beckoned me with the cry of the Mourning Dove, and the call the Whippoorwill. But there were other calls too. A late spring, or summer adventure!! Most days started for me as soon as daylight came through the lace curtains, moving with an early morning breeze. I savored the wash of the cool air before slipping into a pair of my brothers’ faded blue jeans. I tried not to wake the other members of the household as I get up for my morning adventure. My gear is neatly packed, waiting in the smokehouse.
A large mason jar for gathering tadpoles, twine for tying flowers. My stomach grumbling with hunger guided me to a quick stop in the kitchen. Spreading butter with grandma’s plum jelly over a biscuit from the warmer makes for a tasty breakfast with a cold glass of milk. The sweet taste of the jelly reminded me to take an extra biscuit sandwich along for the day. A treat from home will taste good when I’m hungry later. This morning holds promise for a long day exploring nature. In the trench down the well worn path to the field the air already vibrates with the call from the pond. I hear croaking and humming of creatures. The sudden cool of the morning felt soothing as I scooted under the barbed wire fence. The dew from the grass wet the knees of my jeans. As I struck out across the field towards the pond, a beautiful yellow and black butterfly gracefully appeared, commanding my full attention. Gone, out of sight in the sunlight. The field flowers spread as far as my eyes could see like a Monet painting. A sudden hush fell over the pond as my presence invaded the rhythm of the moment. Dragonflies skim the surface of the water. I settle down to watch the water ripple from the whir of their wings.
Tadpoles are darting around the cattails making my decision hard for selections.
Tadpoles soon to be held captive in my mason jar. A favorite pastime of mine is to study and watch tadpoles as they turned to frogs. Sitting by the pond I could hear the stirring of the houses on The Lane, in the distance. Soon the field will echo with playful laughter, when my younger brothers join me. I save my peace and quiet for the moment!
The call the Whippoorwill beckons me to my secret spot, the woods. A place where shade flowers grow. I go there exploring in search of ruffled trillions, wild violets, and Jack-in-the-Pulpit. All are nestled in the wild fern bed that grows there. I see the fern spiraling fiddle heads pushing forward.
This spring’s sweet smells of the earth brings the memories of Knox County, a special place on a day long ago. It is a comfort to return to the place that remains unchanged in my memory since the days of my childhood. This memory helps me today with the passing of my time.
Think back and write down at least one memory from your life. No matter how dull it seems to you, your memory is a piece of your procession through time. Again I repeat….there is a saying….. the days seem long, but the years are fast.