It is turning to spring here.
It is a fiddly thing to ponder in terms of calendars, with spring coming here after Peret has wound to its conclusion.
But even with the seasons as they are (and not as they are not) there are the places where it nonetheless works. Where the spring rain that finally brings the greening to the trees has fallen at last, filling a bowl with water from the Inundation, so that I might be prepared for the Beautiful Festival of the Western Valley.
(I have strained the water into a jar and popped it upstairs with my shrine and ritual supplies.)
Today we got ten dollars’ worth of little yellow flowers and planted them in front of the house, because the older kid wanted to plant yellow flowers with her grandparents. She has watered them with her little watering can, encouraging emergence.
Encouraging the spring.