May Days

As I was traveling this week I spied a church sign that read May is God's Apology for February.

And I said to myself, "Indeed!"

May in the Ozarks.  It can be fickle, as any time during the change of seasons can be.  One day you shiver and pile on the extra sweater or coat.  The next you are sweltering in eighty degree weather that threatens to give you heat stroke.

May is the month we love.  Early mornings bring us sunrises that blind you with golden beams outlining each dew-tipped blade of grass.  Mist rises from the river valley like smoke from dampened fires.  Birds greet the day with  trilling songs to call their mates to nest and bower. 

At noon we seek the cooler shadows down under the trees.  Moist earth crumbles in your fingers as you test the garden plot.  Do I dare put out my tender plants now?  Will frost some night creep up and bite the budding flowers on tomato and cucumber?  Can I bear the heartache of planting again?  And again?

Early evening brings the promise of rain.  We need it badly now.  We listen to the weather forecast and try to plan for the next day or two.

And the mowing.  Always the mowing.  Just as soon as you cut the grass it hops up again, twice as thick and three times as tall. 

I'll not complain.  Spring has returned with green hills and swaying grass, lovely mornings and spectacular sunsets. 

May is here.  Thank You God.