​(Freddy the Pig)

​This month I want to reinforce the cliché of Spring. It showed up again this year. We can watch from the sidelines, or jump right in.

​In my front-yard garden a couple of Ravens are obviously going through their first year of nest-building. No need to switch on the television, just watch this lordly fowl pulling at a dry twig from a Curly Willow tree – the twig about 4 times his length and built like a bedspring. Nope, it won't disentangle itself from the twisted clot of other twigs, even when Raven turns on the full power of his stocky frame. (Yank! Yank! Wiggle! Wiggle!) Through the binoculars, I swear he looks bewildered. Eventually I watch (her/him) fly off with a much smaller bit sticking out both sides of his beak. Could there be a more efficient way to do this? Tradition be damned.

​Here's lordly Greek poet Odysseus Elytis offering his support:

​And in the latest issue of Emergence Magazine Jay Griffiths combines literature with science in a detailed rhapsody on the soil beneath and way-beneath our feet. The kind of essay that makes you feel totally nourished:

​Don't forget to leave a little offering to Runcina, the Roman goddess of weeding.

I've always had trouble distinguishing between "soul" and "spirit," and quotes like this can offer some help if this is also an issue for you.
Or, not.

AND
I toss in as an afterthought, a chapter heading from Václav Cílek's To Breathe With Birds :