Sometimes it seems like spring creeps up on me. The crocus and daffodils bloom and are joyously welcomed while the world around them is still brown and frosty, the grass slowly begins to don a hint of green, a pale and subtle cloud of pink or bright lemon-green buds appears around some of the trees. Then one day I look around and realize, all at once, that the sleeping world has wakened, and winter has burst into spring.
Now crystal clear are the falling waters, /And bonnie blue are the sunny skies.
- Robert Burns, The Smiling Spring
My thoughtful spot is cacophonous with the sound of gleeful songbirds. Today, to my utter delight, it is just barely warm enough to walk barefoot in the creek, and so my walk here was through the shallow, sparking water. A very small copperhead startled me along the way, sunning himself on a large rock that wasn't quite underwater. His presence made me reconsider my intentions to clear away the jumble of branches and leaves that was diverting the creek, as it looked like the perfect haven for any of his cousins that might be living nearby, and I didn't particularly like the idea of disturbing them.
Through the woods, along the creek bank, and surrounding this little moss covered seat, all around me, at my feet and clambering up the the slopes above me and down the rocks to the creek below is a tiny, wondrous world of wildflowers.
A violet by a mossy stone, half hidden from the eye
Do You Have a