Fearful Buds

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,Read more