The Time of the Singing of Birds | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    It is almost April and still, we wait for tulips. The evenings in March still warrant a blanket and frost blankets the fields of winter wheat, in the first hours, of the day. Though dogwoods and azaleas ought to bloom for Easter Sunday, the ones at the rabbit patch, do not seem inclined to do so this year. . .and Easter eggs are likely to be found amongst sticks and old leaves, instead of tufts of tender grass. The forecast does indicate fair weather in the near future.

    The gathering on Sunday, in honor of a trio of birthdays, was a happy affair. Daddy and Christian had a chocolate eclair cake-and Mama had bought Lyla her very own little chocolate cake. I think we all expected Lyla to grab two handfuls of cake, at the first chance she got, but Lyla picked up a little plastic fork, and cut herself a slice, very neatly.

    Tres had to leave early, as he had to go to work that afternoon. Jenny had a biology test-on Sunday! (I remember when stores and restaurants too, all closed on Sunday.) When all was cleaned up, and there was no trace a party had taken place, I came back to the rabbit patch, which now, seemed especially quiet.

    Next week is spring break and so schools will close for a week. I do hope to restore some order to the territory around the rabbit patch, before I leave for Elizabeth City. The place looks shabby and I blame the March winds, that have been relentless this year. It saddens me to say, that the beloved cape jasmine bushes haven't a sprig of green yet, so I fear that week of sub zero temperatures, may have been fatal for my favorite bushes. The dandelions are alive and well, though. . .and so are the wild violets.

    On the way to school, I sometimes follow a school bus, no matter what time I leave. It is hardly light as I drive past fields and pastures. This morning, the bus in front of me started its' flashing lights in front of a house , that set a good ways back from the road. There waiting in the driveway, in the last shadow of night, stood a tiny little boy. Honestly, it bothered me that he was alone . . .but then I saw that he was in good company, after all. A dog was on either side of him. One was a medium size and the other was a smaller one . Both of the dogs walked the boy to the bus, and paused til he was safely aboard. Then they turned around and pranced quite proudly back to the drive and waited til the bus pulled away, before returning to the house. I just love dogs.

    Today was mild and absent of brutal winds It felt like the first day of spring. I noticed the wisteria is just beginning to bloom in the woodlands. Here and there little lavender blossoms appear to float in the woodlands, otherwise the woodlands still portray a winter landscape. I suspect within a week the wild wisteria vines will make their presence known and act as lovely garlands for oaks, still not convinced of the season. The woodlands around the rabbit patch are abundant with the fragrant vines. Wisteria is zealous and not everyone counts them beloved, because of that. I think of my friend "Sweet Anne", who does battle with a wisteria in her yard every year. (I think she is losing.)

    At last, I think, it is safe to put the geraniums on the porch . I washed the heaviest blankets last night, to be put away. I even moved the warmest sweaters to the back of the closet , in good faith . . .that "the time of the singing of birds has come" . . .and young rabbits will soon be seen in the twilight ,amongst those patches of wild violets.