I heard the peepers last night when I took the dogs out. The daffodils have sent up shoots, and the air, while still cold, is cold-tinged-with-warm, instead of warm-tinged-with-cold.
I don't care what the calendar, the almanac, or the weathermen say...Spring is here.
mouse over images for source
One
swallow does not make a summer,
but one skein of geese,
cleaving the murk of
March thaw,
is the Spring.
~ Aldo Leopold

http://confessionsofasineater.blogspot.com/
2 comments:
spring peepers. (giggles)
"... the air, while still cold, is cold-tinged-with-warm, instead of warm-tinged-with-cold."
You found such beautifully poetic words to express something I felt too, yesterday morning, walking along the river of my childhood at sunrise.
To spring,
Merisi
Post a Comment