With the advent of spring, the days are noticeably longer and brighter. Now through uncovered windows and open doors, fresh air pours in to refresh and revive quarters formerly barricaded against the vagrancies of winter. The emergence of green and color in the garden fills us all with new vigor and optimism. Tasks such as sweeping away the cobwebs in the corners and dust bunnies upon the desk, tackling the stacks of books bound for the resale shop, transporting to the potting bench container-plants in need of transplant, tackling coats and sweaters in need of brushing or dry-cleaning, and so forth, are easily addressed in the crisp morning light after the first expresso and before the Diane Rehm show. I plan to re-arrange the furniture and re-hang pictures with the intention of enjoying individual pieces formerly in storage. Rob the framer has promised that everything (taken to his studio since last October) will be ready within a week or so, and I can't wait to see the magic he's performed on the little treasures I've sourced from the thrift store and estate sales.
At this time of the year yard sales on every block sprout like wild onions, as do the number of estate sales which had been quite lean during the Christmas season. I admit to having a tenuous relationship with estate sales; I love the wide variety of beautiful objects that can be had quite reasonably during the two or three day run. Yet I feel some sadness at the visible markers of an individual' s life now carefully catalogued/bagged/boxed/shelved/stacked/sorted/tidied up and ready for sale and onto to the new purchaser's residence. I tend to avoid libraries or dens where invariably smiling grandmothers, graduation photos, and Thanksgiving dinners have been captured by the marvel of technology--the camera, are now held captive by the cornered boundaries of the picture frame and gaze wistfully out, and through eternity, until replaced by a sharp-eyed weekend shopper who in turn will perform the same motions that celebrate the events that mark life's passage (or the passage of life). Whenever possible, I walk through the garden and then enter through the back-door, for this gives me time to adjust to the inevitability of it all.
Enjoy the day, and today's visual treat.
PS: Today's soundtrack is Jen + Chin Chillaz's No Ordinary Life (Genuine Sounds Remix by Chris Zippel)