I’m not a big fan of poetry, but I am fond of rhyming songs and hymns. There is a verse from the Oxford Book of Carols that fits the season.

Spring has now unwrapped the flowers,
Day is fast reviving.
Life in all her growing powers toward the light is striving.
All the world with beauty fills, Gold the green enhancing.

There is no longer any doubt that winter is gasping its last chilly breath. I swear things are popping up overnight. The Nip’n Tuck Farm fields have greened. There are blooming daffodils and hyacinths everywhere. The human spirit has lifted — everyone is cheerful and friendly.

About hyacinths, I’ve planted dozens of them over the years. They come up reliably but are so much smaller as the years go by. The flowers no longer wrap around a sturdy stem but become rather singular. I don’t mind, though. They really welcome in the season.

The Martha’s Vineyard Savings Bank has a sweet little patch near the drive-through. It is a protected location there. The blooming is at least a week ahead of mine.

Several weeks ago I snipped some red quince branches to force in the house. They bloomed white with just a faint tint of pink. How odd is that?

My honey bees failed to survive the harsh winter. Recently, though, I noticed my crocuses simply awash with the little workers. I guess someone within a mile radius has some working hives. I became instantly happy and a tiny bit jealous to see them gathering some of the first pollen.

I tipped over several bales of hay that I had placed over some rows of carrots around Christmas. Happily, the voles did not make off with too many of them. The carrots are incredibly sweet. I threw some into the giant food processor for a delicious smoothie. I should be able to pick them for a few weeks before they go all hairy and rooty. Since they are biennial they will go to seed and produce the familiar Queen Anne’s Lace flower. That wild flower is the ancestor of our modern day carrot.

Violet, her friend, Morgan, and I witnessed something the other day that bears comment. We saw a seagull swallow an entire baguette of garlic bread, all in one gulp. It must have rescued it from a dumpster. After being shocked and grossed out, we collapsed in giggles. It reminded me of years ago on the beach in front of the Black Dog Tavern when a gull swallowed an enormous eel to the dismay of the diners. I guess this is the reality of a gull’s life — what with no teeth!

Where was I? Oh, yes — spring gardening.

I finally put a few things into the ground outside. There is nothing more satisfying. The only thing that put a negative spin on the experience was the proliferation of the heinous mugwort. I often warn people to sell their property when it arrives on the scene.

I remember the day I gave it to myself unwittingly. I had taken a road trip with my friend, Dinah, at least 30 years ago. We bought some small rhododendrons by the side of the road in Western, Massachusetts. Mine promptly died but I left the interesting weed that was in the pot — to my everlasting peril. I often tell a story about a patch of mugwort growing happily under a piece of plywood, pure white from lack of sun. Hopefully no one will take this weed to Mars on the planned one-way trip.

Why would any person in their right mind want to enter the insanity of a presidential campaign? Hillary Clinton, who is my clear choice and was in 2008, should have her head examined. The press and the right-wingers have been beating her up for two or three decades. My favorite conspiracy theory is that she murdered Vince Foster. Really!!!

She has some serious, tough skin and has my full support!