Another April! Now begins the breathless time of year. Sugaring is done; it is too early to do much in the fields. Indeed, everything is so muddy and wet a man must either bide close to home or stay on the paved roads. So, there is plenty of unscheduled time to give to the garden. What a delight that is.
The early sun and the chattering birds wake me soon after five. No more sleep is possible so, after a few hasty cups of coffee and a wedge of pie, or whatever the ice box may provide in-the way of chicken legs or slabs of roast beef, it is out into the garden.
First, I stroll around in the clean, sharp air, smoking the first pipe of the day, and take stock of everything. I notice how the iris leaves have lengthened, how the crocus still has a few more flowers to come, how the King Alfred daffodils are shooting their buds up so eagerly.
Then I go and feel the lilac buds to see if there is any sign of softening, and I look at the surly buds on the brush around the base of the elms. Being a native, the elm is not to be fooled by April; that tree has learned to be patient.
Then I find chores to do, and I light another pipe and get to work - with one eye on the kitchen chimney, of course. Smoke that will tell me that the rest of the family is up and that bacon and scrambled eggs, buttered toast and more coffee are on the way. Perhaps this morning it will be griddle cakes with our own maple syrup, or maybe a slice of sugar-cured ham with beans.
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