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After
blowing hard for two days and two nights, winds bored themselves and
withdrew. The willow on the river lets her golden hair loose charming a
silky blue sky. The white oak in Barton Pond opens up its arms to embrace the
sun, and under its broad shoulders, goldenrods will soon grow again.
In
the woods, patches of ice are still present. While the trail is muddy, it
is surprising to see some areas remain dry (think about all that snowfall
in this winter that melt recently). Spring has not come yet,
however, in the interplay of things, much of the fate is already written:
Where garlic mustards will appear, and which flowers are to bloom to the
full.
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