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.
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One swallow does not make a summer,
but one skein of geese,
cleaving the murk of March thaw,
is the Spring.
~ Aldo Leopold
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.
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