Did I miss Spring? Something so all-consuming, the pain of my Murphy loss and I missed an entire section of a year?
The greening of a lawn… tiny miniatures of oak leaves, silvery-shining in their infancy as trees awaken. A luna moth drops from its chrysalis onto a forgotten splice of driveway, warming its wrinkly, vermilion gold wings into sun-strength.
Peeper frogs give procession to the dawning chorus of birdsong as sun defrosts a newly soft earth. Spiderlings take flight on tiny gossamer parachutes from their newly-hatched egg-webs. A succulent smell of honey suckle streams into the air lifting early springlike nuance and burgeoning trees lazily fill the blue sky gaps with growing leaves. Once-sparse ground white snows of clover blossoms and leaves, vinings and tendrils stretching their sleepy stems across the forest floor. Dandelions and daffodils nodding bright cheer from the sun. Gentle rains puddling drops to hibernate-thirsty roots and swelling streams.
And finches, red-wine dipped color over their lovely faces and throats, the hummers buzzing again, squeaking territorial disputed life. Tiger swallowtails, flitting aimlessly, flaunting delicate yellow streaks with black, boldly circling the new air.
Yes, this year I saw.