A tree may be lovelier than a poem,
but it is nothing without its spring buds.
The buds that bring life to the earth after a long winter.
The buds that shout, “Hello! It’s time!”
Time for beguiling beauty.
Time for the richness of color.
Time for Mother Earth to bless us with renewal.
This past week, as I spent time walking on two different trails, I took note of the buds.
Buds on the trees, buds on the bushes, buds in the sky, buds on the ground.
Buds that were already leafing.
I was surrounded by the birth of spring.
As much as I love summer – the warmth, the biking, the wearing of the flip-flops – spring brings the happiness that winter doldrums chase away. It’s life reborn. It’s spring green leaves, the smell of fresh linen air, the sounds of returning geese and cranes.
And no more white stuff.