I have this circular, seasonal calendar on the wall in my living room, and recently I moved it to the quadrant depicting a nest with eggs.  This time of year, everything is busy procreating – my chickens are popping out more eggs now than they will later in the year, and just ask anyone with allergies about the tree sex going on in their sinuses.  A pair of blackcap chickadees set up housekeeping in one of the trio of new nesting boxes I put in the little wooded area outside my garage; there were tiny noises coming from the box this weekend.  Tiger and Black Swallowtail butterflies are everywhere, along with skippers and Azures and Sulphurs, and I saw an Eastern Comma butterfly resting on the rail of my deck on Saturday.

Along with all of the fauna, the flora is procreating, too.  It’s just as well I don’t stress over whether the green in my yard is weed or grass; the chickweed and Glechoma (ugh!) are already in full bloom.  In the kitchen garden, the native violets (Viola sororia and V. sororia priceana) have taken over ground-cover duties.  I’d have a time of it if I wanted to remove them, but I enjoy those flowers.  I think they’re gonna get to stay.  And procreate.

(Ask me some time about the neighbor who wanted me to accompany him to the far side of the yard and identify the little blue flowers cropping up in his perfect lawn, as if I was Mother Nature incarnate, spreading seed just to piss him off!)

Soon enough it will be hot and dry and we will all be complaining about wanting to go back to spring.  While we’re here, then, take a moment to go outside and soak up the fecundity of the season.  The memory will carry you through to autumn.

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