The threshold of spring is upon us. The fervor of the season emerges in me like a wild cat hungry for catnip..... I scrounge at the little bits of green at the forest edge. The pungency of the mustard greens awakens me on the deepest level, bringing clarity and renewal to my whole being. The long wait during winter is nearly too much. I can't bear the separation of wild, flourishing nature at my fingertips. She howls from underneath the snow, sucking up wise soil but yearning for sunshine.
The first green buds peek out from the safety of the mother bark. And indeed the catnip roots itself well before forming any leaves, for it must protect it's species from wild cats like me who might tear up the whole plant out of sheer exuberance.