I love transition, which is probably why Spring and Fall are my favourite seasons. The change, the work, the effort to create (or clean up) and prepare for the moments when we stop.
For us, there are yards of chicken manure to move into the garden each spring. Not the nicest of jobs, but a necessary and valuable one. An easy task that delivers in abundance all summer long.
There is the turning and tilling of the winter soil, and the mysterious finds of missed winter veggies that survived the freeze, and the free ranging chickens.
There is the constant shifting between sweatshirt, t-shirt, sweatshirt, t-shirt, as the sun shines and then hides behind a could. Not quite warm enough to commit to something lighter.
There is the feeling of getting dirt under your finger nails, and ground into the palm of your hand, and then the dryness all night, as your palms itch.
There is the new life, the baby chicks, the additional eggs from the hens as the daylight hours lengthen.
There is the potential… as the garden beds are strung in a row, and the first seeds are planted, before everything becomes over grown and mistakes are made (this year I WILL nip the tomatoes before they get leggy)
The dirty hands, the dirty boots, and the sore back, but the warmth from the sun makes it all worth it.