There's a compulsion we feel in the spring, to get out after breakfast and take a leisurely stroll around the exterior of the house, to see what the gardens have been up to overnight and into the morning hours. It may sound silly, but it isn't to us, since invariably we'll see things we hadn't before, where plants have suddenly erupted out of the soil, and where others reach toward their seasonal maturity.

And as we peruse this intimate outdoor landscape of ours, there is always something that calls out for brief attention; to snip something back, tie up something else, tidy a tiny area, pull a presumptuous weed, that kind of thing.

It's an enjoyable early-morning past-time of ours, and one our twin puppies enjoy as well. Once we let ourselves out into the backyard, they nose about alongside us, and when it's obvious we're headed toward the front of the house, opening the gate leading from the backyard to the path alongside the side of the house that takes us toward the front gardens, they're beside themselves with eager anticipation.

First the backyard, then the pathway, then the turn around the corner of the house to discover the gardens unfolding before us; those closest to the house and those further along, reaching toward the street.

All of the plants, immature as they yet are, call out for attention. And we're more than pleased to give them attention, amazed at the progress they make in such a limited amount of time. Thanks, of course, to the warming atmosphere, the plenitude of rain, and the life-affirming sun.

We most often stay out there in the gardens longer than we'd intended. Frequently, people walk by, stop to talk and a brief chat becomes a much longer interchange. It's a pleasant start to the day by any measure.