Dear May,
I breathe in your pea green freshness. I crawl on my hands and knees looking for every tiny change in each plant pushing through the soil.
May is for feeling alive. (This May, in particular, we need you.)
I think of May Day and may poles and while I don’t know the history behind it all, I like the idea. Girls dressed in floaty, flouncy dresses wrapping Easter-colored ribbons around and around and under and over. Hair woven with flowers—clover and daisies and baby’s breath.
Everything is good and light on this May Day morning. The sky is new, silvery blue and full of easy.
May feeds me.
Fuels me.
Fills with now with words to use later.
Happy May, friends!
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
Musical Pairing:
The Beatles – I Want to Hold Your Hand
Ah, May… a gardener’s delight!
Those flowers are gorgeous. I remember winding the May Pole when I was in the 6th grade. We weren’t sure why we were doing it, but you were right about the floaty dresses.
When my mother, Irene Johnson, was in elementary school in Keiser, they performed a Maypole dance every year. Odd that the tradition was there in the 1930s.