Spring fever has got me in its claw. I went out last week and bought flowers for my front garden. We are in coastal NC, after all, so I should be able to start to add a little color to brighten up the front of my house. Well, Mother Nature had other things in mind, and now the purple and pink look wilted and half dead and the little blue bells, well let’s just say those are half eaten by the neighborhood bunny. That bunny was pregnant last year, so there could be many, many of those little babies hopping around here!

The joke’s always on me! My neighbor walked by with his wool hat on and his tall lab at the end of the leash just as I was knee deep in the dirt. “You think we’re done with winter?” he said. He smiled and trotted on his way. Well, I’ve been here for almost three years now and I am the eternal optimist, as my mother-in-law used to say.

I’m off season here. Lost in understanding when the dang winter is gonna end. That picture above, was my old back yard in Connecticut. I always knew when to plant and when not to. The peepers, the crocuses, then the daffodils and the fiddle heads came. By the time the sun’s warmth was truly ready for me to be planting, it was close to Memorial Day.

Planting and writing have that in common for me. I may lose a lot of dead drafts, worn out manuscripts, not quite ready for public view, but eventually the optimist in me is gonna win out. I am determined, in this case, to reap what I sow. As always, the optimist inside me will continue to chase that light!