An early taste of summer, a gossamer mist rising to greet the dawn, a myriad of birds singing the morning sun into the sky, our two herons cruising over the field, silhouettes primordial, walking barefoot in the fields, the mud squishing between my toes, and once again feeling the water moving through the earth as if through me. “I’d rather feel the mud between my toes than smell a yellow rose.” The birds have it right. There is nothing that we can do more important than singing the dawn of a new day.
Morning is best. Its subtlety of light and shadow, its cool misty beginnings bursting into spectacle beyond words, its birds singing their praises to life. This is the time of day, untouched by what is to come, clean and fresh, the moment that exists in and of itself, the beauty of the beginning, full of hope and joy. In this dawn I sing the earth of which I am a part, the birds to which I am a brother, the sun to which I am a child, the day to come for which I am a herald.
The season of change is upon us faster than anyone imagined it could come. What a wonderful Earth Day present the Province of Ontario gave us with its pesticide legislation. Finally, the recognition that when we poison the earth we poison ourselves and our children. What’s more, these poisons are unnecessary. Everything we need to grow safe, clean, healthy lawns and gardens is all around us; and everywhere you look, people are becoming aware of that.
The new day dawning needs us to sing its sun into the sky. Every pledge of faith in the future becomes one more voice added to the song. Thanks to Pat Warren and Pete Cziraky who planned Earth Day celebrations at Bobcaygeon, our city joined the chorus. Schools everywhere set up special Earth Day programmes to help their students to reconnect with the earth. Everywhere you turn the chorus grows. It is sung by those who carry reusable bags when they shop, by those who take the time to keep their streets and roads clean, by those who walk and cycle instead of driving, by those who plant trees and those who garden. Mind you, those who garden need to listen to what the earth is telling us this spring. The April rains have been replaced by the summer sun causing the land to dry too early.
We’re supposed to get rain today, but it doesn’t really feel like it. The air is wrong this morning, too dry already. We’ve had almost no April showers this year. Instead, a summer sun has brought out the shorts. This year I have taken a preemptive strike against the dry summer that may be coming as a match to last year. I have covered my garden with straw to keep in the moisture. So far it’s holding its own, but after all, it’s still only April. Our fields should still be under water.
Worries about tomorrow, however, are not going to stop me from savouring this moment. Whatever the day ahead may bring, it will not surpass the beauty and hope carried on the dawn. Last year’s drought caught me by surprise. I will try not to let that happen again. After all, what is a song of praise without a pledge to do better given another chance. See you next time.