. . .And There is April


Sunshine has been scarce the last dew days.  Spring is full of flowers – and rain.  Though we did have, a fleeting storm, Monday night, mostly the showers have been light.  Days are born in mist and how lovely the blossoms are in mist, I think.  Suddenly, the  woods are  green!  They are the color of jade now, as the trees are adorned with young leaves,  The dogwood has a few blossoms, too.  . . and now, the birds sing, celebrating the time “when flowers appear on the earth.”  You would think, that all of this splendor, would make for a merry heart, naturally. . . but yesterday, I cried.

Being sentimental, I will cry at the drop of a hat . . .at beauty.  Kind words, make my heart well up as does acts of kindness.  When something good happens to someone, I cry tears of joy, whether I know them, or not. This has always been so . .but this was not the circumstances, yesterday.  Yesterday, I cried because the lawn mower wouldn’t start! 

Kyle was caught completely off guard, by my behavior and stood there looking stunned.  Before, you consider me totally mad or “fragile”, be aware that the territory is about three acres of yard – and I went through this all of last summer.  Had it not been for my neighbor, Susan, I do not know what I would have done.  If the grass gets too high, you will need a tractor, which mows  it like a hay field -and it is very costly.  It is no small thing to be behind in mowing, on the rabbitpatch, and  I am just weary of this predicament.  Still, it was much ado for an untidy yard.  I did apologize to Kyle for my outlandish display, but I am ashamed, that recovery,did not come swiftly.  I counted my blessings – and I have so many.  This is the best remedy I know of, for such occasions.  By the time I went out, to bid the world, good night, I had calmed down from my tantrum, and felt foolish.

The stars were out, after all and the faint smell of clover hung sweetly, in the cool air.  There was a chorus being sung, by tiny little night creatures -and a killdeer pierced the dark, with great excitement.  An evening in Spring, is lovely.


I slept soundly, and convinced myself , that in spite of myself, all was well.  Life is more than one moment, thankfully.

I rose the next morning, to an  “early bird” singing like his life depended on it. It mattered little to him, that it was still pitch dark.   It mattered even less, to him that the grass needed cutting. A new day was just over the horizon and so he sang an especially sweet prelude, because of it. Today, I would not be ill tempered, I promised the Heavens.

A few hours later, I was driving past the quiet pastures and the fields of winter wheat.  The emerald grain, is now knee deep.  Sunlight flooded the fields in long slanted rays and the once, bright corners of the field, are now shaded.

At school, the children are telling of sightings of young bunnies and finding kittens. . . .a sure sign of April. I remember finding kittens as a child.  It was a joyous affair and we would spend a morning trying to catch them, for they were feral as could be.  None of the adults ever shared our enthusiasm for  the discovery of wild kittens, under a barn. I do not know what Grandmama held against cats, but as it turns out, Mama is scared of them!    She is to this day and don’t you know that there is more than one story about that. I did not find  this out, til many years  after childhood.   I knew that when we we would run in the little farmhouse full of excitement,at our  find, the adults shared odd glances, with one another, that became familiar over the years.  No matter what, children can never be convinced that finding a litter of kittens, is not a sheer and divine stroke of good luck.  

Only one kitten was ever tamed.  It was a calico and I thought she was beautiful.  I named her “Frosty”.  She never did allow us to hold her, but she like to be petted.  To this day, I love calico cats. 


The week passed, with every day fairer than the one before it. It is no wonder to me that people fall in love so easily, in months like April, for the earth itself, seems to encourage it, with the lilacs  blooming , butterflies wafting along and all the nest building.  Such things conjure up tender thoughts and soften hearts, in the young.  . .and  in the poets. 

Surely the wild hyacinths, do their part, to lend enchantment to the season. A few are blooming by the garden, as they always do.  They smell every bit as good as their fancy cousins, even if they aren’t as regal.  Beyond the garden . . .the white tufts of clover are abundant.  I love the smell of clover – almost as much as the roses in June.  Some people do not like the hodgepodge look of such a yard.  Many will go to great lengths, to rid their yard of “Aprils’ flowers”,  but it is but a few short weeks of the whole year . . so mine abide.  . .and the bees are happy.  

Somehow, I was able to live up to my conviction, this week and not pitch another single fit.  I do hope this is not a short lived affair – for life itself, is a short lived affair. . . .really a sacred one.  One of the most beautiful and brave things we can do, is to live  authentically,  recognizing  our truth.  . . and some times our truth may not be so charming, and may include things like tantrums. . . but truth is always of great value, for it acts as a compass of sorts, and shows us our short comings, so that with practice, we will get along better as we go. 

Besides, there are too many  loved ones in my world  -and too many hyacinths to waste a moment .  There are the fields and the woodlands . . .and a laughing river.  There are the robins and young rabbits, to consider . . .and there is “April”.  

Dear rabbitpatch Diary, Might I dwell on “whatever is true,whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, and whatever is lovely’  .   . . always.







29 thoughts on “. . .And There is April

  1. Oh sometime little things do get under our skin. Lawn mowers can certainly do that .Mine does but that is another story .
    April showers bringing May flowers..if there is any left since they have all bloomed out so early this yeat. With Easter still a week away and temps dropin to 39 on Monday morning we do have to wonder what will be left to put into a vase for a special dinner.I’m pretty sure there are baby kitten out there but theyhaven’t showed their little selves just yet. Time will tell and the outside cat population will increase. Oh goodness….what to do.?

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Dear Beverly, I always love hearing from you-I am so busy these days, I am always late in responses. Still, yours means so very much to me. Lawn mowers are a sore subject here! Best wishes to you for mowing season! I can not believe, I have not heard a word from Cobs- ? ? ? I love you! Michele


  2. Although tears won’t cut acres of growing grass, they do clear away feelings of overwhelm pretty good. They also do wonders for unexpected surprises that aren’t of the type we would ever love experiencing. Truthfully, I’m not much of a crier myself, but when I do, the benefits show themselves almost immediately.

    A know-it-all scientist might say that tears carry a message. I say bull-hokey. That’s like saying there’s a message in frequent rain in April. But then, what if there is? After all, rain does make things grow. I wonder then if we too grow just a little bit stronger, wiser, and more content with what is, as opposed to what we’d like to be. Or, are we crying tears of joy in reverse.

    One things for sure, we can’t scratch our heads and cry at the same time. Or…can we? Happy Weekend Michele!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I totally understand about the lawn mower! It is the same here that if it is not mowed on time it makes it really hard to catch up.
    I have always liked cats. As a kid it seemed we always had a black one. Once we moved to the farm we always seemed to have gray ones. Now we have a wild one running around that my husband calls “Banana” as he coloring is that of a very overripe banana.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Ma’am,
    Who needs to go to a church to listen to a sermon when they can get a good sermon from reading ” The Rabbit Patch Diary” ? It was a blessing to read your message. It is right to be true to oneself and others.
    April is a great month to be in, to be sure. I am glad you don’t clear the wildflowers off your rabbit patch- even the hyacinths and let the bees do their work.
    Do you have a calico cat still ?

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I truly believe it is okay to throw a tantrum now and then, as long as we don’t take our anger and frustration out on others. Sometimes life is just overwhelming and we feel as if we have just been pushed over the edge. The trick is to move on after our emotional display, and to figure out a way to move forward. I hope things are better for you soon!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You are always the voice of reason-That event made me realise that I was not in a good place. So much has happened this past year that I could barely process one thing before the next happening. Well, I guess I needed that cry, and the mower was the turning point! I am better thank you and HappyEaster xoxo Michele

      Liked by 1 person

  6. We had this old used car. An Oldsmobile I bought for $800. It was probably 12 years old already, knowing me and cars, with plenty of miles already on the odometer.
    In my habit of personification it became known as Otis. Otis Oldsmobile. It never really had any other great significance. It was just our car that lived with us for a while during pretty ordinary years, though it was called by name and even spoken to by more than one member of the family.
    One day, as is the case with old cars, it blew or threw some part of its power plant, gainfully employed at the hands of a son, getting him to work. Otis died in the line of duty.
    I mention this as a reply to your post because of my wife’s reaction, which we recall to this day, along with fond remembrances of that Cutlass Supreme.
    She called me on the phone sobbing. I feared for my children or at least the dog before she could finally tell me “Otis died!” between unintelligible words of mourning.
    Somehow we all felt that way toward Otis.
    I’m sure it was the circumstances that escalated this nearly to a tragedy.
    The things I can’t even remember now that weighed on our hearts then.
    Home. Children. Life.
    And futures we can only guess at, hope for, plan for, pray for.

    I don’t need to tell you that you’ll be alright, come what may, with family and faith.
    This you know.

    Keep your eye on that sparrow, Rabbit.

    All my best,


    Liked by 1 person

    1. One of the most touching comments, that I have ever read.-I almost cried about Otis too! You have the heart of a poet and it always shows up. I will keep my eye on the sparrow-what a beautiful way to remember. All the best always-and I thank God, I met you! Michele

      Liked by 1 person

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