May 13, 2012
The fiddle heads at the water's edge. The buds on the trees. The flush of green grass after all the rain.
This is my happy time. These long, greening days. Watching birds descend on the field (along their migration routes I'm assuming). One day it's a flock of dark eyed juncos. The next week is robins, hundreds of them convening in the meadow.
I walk in the woods with the kids (sans the cat). We marvel and notice the small signs of spring, before green in all her verdant glory will burst in a mid spring riot.
These tender greens are spring's promise. Innocent.
In the evenings we listen to frog and bird calls. Love songs.
My season of green.
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