Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye...
When April with its sweet-smelling showers
Has pierced the drought of March to the root,
And bathed every vein in such liquid
By which power the flower is created;
When the West Wind also with its sweet breath,
In every wood and field has breathed life into
The tender new leaves, and the young sun
Has run half its course in Aries,
And small birds make melody...
-General Prologue, Canterbury Tales, Geoffrey Chaucer
It might not be April yet, but yesterday we saw the first bees of the season, coming over to our little crop of winter aconite. Today we saw the first shoots of bulbs coming up (other than the one sad clump of snowdrops that tried to bloom a few months ago when it was crazy warm). And there are an awful lot of little birds maken melodye around here!
Though there are still icy patches here and there, the kids still got muddy and wet today digging in the yard. They may have still been wearing wool underwear and sweaters, but I didn't have the heart to say no to their first mud in months.