Spring Sunday

The birds have been heralding spring with everything their tiny little throats can muster, haven't they?

I've been outside early every morning this weekend and the sounds have been amazing. Saturday I heard the wetchoo wetchoo of a redbird and not long after it sprinkled on me. This morning that cardinal was calling out "clear clear clear" and I've no doubt I will see nothing but sun.

In the pond not far away there must be geese, because I hear them honking. Crows are making their raucus noise from the field. I hear other birds, too, a bluebird in the spruce tree.

Over in the woods, the wildflowers are coming up. I spied them yesterday morning.


(I think, but am not positive, that this is a Carolina Cranesbill flower.)

The cattle have been making lots of mooing noises this weekend, too. The whole world is full of sound - the speedy zip of cars on the road, the startling roar of a tractor, the shuffle of leaves from a squirrel running along the forest floor.

The earthy smell of spring permeates the nostrils, the bird sounds fill the ears. The greening fields are like emeralds to the eyes.

It's spring. It's good.