4.17.15 Imagine waking slowly, as the earth about you softens and warms.

Off we tromped, through the early spring woods, and then down to the ridge overlooking the outwaters of the Connecticut. 

Rife with creatures and peepers and ducks and geese; the turtles I know have awakened from their winter's rest in the deep dark mud.

 Imagine waking slowly, as the earth about you softens and warms.    

As the water above you thaws and the sounds begin to nestle up to you, from other living things stirring. Imagine stretching your turtle neck and limbs, your organs within beginning to move and function.

As you tunnel up out of your winter's nest, swim up through the delicious clean spring waters, and take your breath of fresh spring air? Spot a fallen limb, and swim over to climb up upon the rough bark, and sun yourself deliciously in the warm spring sunlight?

 I can, and as I sit far above on the ridge, looking down as the reflection of clouds passes through the waters below, I imagine all the wild things living here all winter, as torpid chipmunk or surviving coyote.

All the wild ones who slept slowly coming awake, looking about, and setting out for a few tender sprouts or insects upon the high limbs or small fish in the waters below.

                       

 I sit up there, watching as the sun slowly sets and the Shepherd races about and all of the forest begins to sing its springtime song.