Birdsong peppers the air, a long anticipated assortment of dulcet chirps and coarse croaks and clacks. I’ve drawn the old glass table from its cozy wintering spot and wiped away a season of grime. How better to enjoy blogging than to set up camp on our fading deck and breathe in spring’s arrival as I type?
This weather stirs the imagination as kindly as it awakens dormant vegetation. Willow and dogwood branches, early in bud, invite visitors to take into account all of the sweet treasures to come. The perfume of grass and humid earth mingle with the plethora of burning charcoal throughout the neighborhood. Bleeding hearts form soft maroon and bright green mounds in the flower beds, and the lamb’s ear leaves rise upward in worship of the sun.
Spring and summer are the seasons that rejuvenate me; while I still reserve autumn as my favorite month, there is a special magic about the former two.
