Happy Easter!

On this very good Friday daddy picked me up from school and took me to Mimi's farm where I got to see her baby chicks - 14 soft little babies under a heat lamp. I was scared at first, but then I calmed down and became very curious. They are cute!

I had the same reaction when I visited a few months ago to meet the new saint puppies. There is something about that basement under Mimi's house that really creeps me out. But it's not just the basement. I cried the first time we went into the lower level of the barn to meet the goats. Maybe it's the smell of animals I am not used to.

Ironically, I am not frightened at all by the dogs in the kennels. Despite their fierce attempts to defend their territory and put on a show of aggression, I have always just smiled and even laughed at their antics. I know that my own sisters will engage in such behavior and it is not something to be afraid of (assuming they're behind cages of course!)

But freaking out when meeting baby saints, baby chickens, and baby goats seems immature and irrational. Daddy thinks I just need to confront my fears when I am a little older and have more frequent exposure to the farm animals.

Perhaps this summer when the grass is green and soft and the fields are carpeted with waving forests of corn. Perhaps when I can walk on my own in the gleaming sunlight and explore the farm more actively I will be able to conquer this odd phobia. I just can't let the farm animals become strangers to me- I still want to join 4H and make artisinal goat cheese and teach cousins Harper and Laura how to do all the farm chores.

One thing I did learn from my experience with the chickens is one of the meanings of Easter. The seasons in Iowa follow the calendar: when the date says March 21, the weather is suddenly more bearable. So the start of spring celestially (where the Earth is in relation to the sun), the start of spring apparently (the change in weather and temperature), and the start of spring spiritually (the date we celebrate death and rebirth) all coincide to one magical weekend. When Granmimi held that tiny, helpless chicken in front of me I thought of all the animals throughout the forest out my window. Daddy and I sit by the window listening to the call of the birds and look for the signs of nest building. Everywhere we can see that the long dark death of winter has finally ended and once again nature's miraculous rebirth has begun. I was born at the peak of this season of rebirth last time around. For this I was given a very special name: Maia, the Goddess of Spring, daughter of Earth and mother to Hermes.

Staring out my window, I know there is much wisdom that resides within the Earth, that is held aloft by the trees, and is carried about by the swirling winds. This is the moment when the Wisdom of Spring is revealed to us all.