In all the years before COVID-19, especially when I was working, spring flew by. I did remark on the crocuses and daffodils, and the return of the birds. But mostly it seemed that winter flowed directly into summer.
Now that we walk the same three routes, I SEE things: the ribbon of a garter snake just warmed up,
the deer losing its winter coat.
I stop and marvel at the lavish displays of the trees in bloom. I speculate on what that strange maroon sprout will become. Peony? The day-to-day changes are small, but now I notice them.
This has been the longest spring I can remember, because I’ve been immersed in it every day. It has offered up a rich repast of beauty and curiosities. And promises.