What is spring?
Is it the bright kelly of the green grass?
The soggy, muddy puddles from a week…nay, I say a month…of rain?
Is spring in the Mallard duck duo that waddle the nearby field
or the laborious, beginning push of daffodils and tulips?
In the fearful black buds against a damp gray sky, it is here.
Spring.
Hiding in the thorny bushes,
hiding from the golden sun,
holding off its presence a bit more,
a sneer upon its face,
it delights in watching us all go mad.
Want spring? Go here.
This is so amazingly written as it’s so true and how I felt recently looking at them.
Thanks so much, Phil. This past week of nothing but gray skies and rain just about did me in.
First rate, Mary Jean ! – definitely first rate !!!
But, if only spring were first rate around here. I swear I am turning into a sweater-clad duck. Quaaaackkk!!!!
quark quark 🙂
A duck with a quirk? :-p
naw jest a quacked squirrel here dat flys 🙂
We’ve skipped straight to summer down here. I imagine a world of wet ooze is more depressing than frozen snow.
Andra, I really only ask for sun and normal temps at this point. This year has simply been “icky” in terms of weather.