4.9.15 From Winter to April to Spring

Always I have found dark, cold rainy days to be a source of comfort, of solace.

Somehow, the day turns you inward, to quiet and cozying in.

Even when I would venture out into the hills and ravines and the outwaters far below, through early springtime woods rifled with freezing rains the like of which we had last night, still with warm coat and boots and a racing dog by my side, the adventure was filled with some sort of stilled joy.

The deep maroon and gold and umber colors of the woods, shining in the wet morning light.  Early Birch catkins, or the first Maple florets -as perfect as any miniature bouquet, covering the quiet awakening trees.

 Today there is no crunching far below, with no one about but the tracks of wild ones from the night before, or the occasional squirrel.

 But I have been told that, could I go far into the woods,

 there I would hear the first peepers, 

flourishing in their private haven of clean spring waters, 

heralding the day, and then the night,

                 As Mallards swoop in for a rest and a meal, Herons sail silently by overhead,  inveterate Pansies lay, resilient, beneath the layer of iced snow, 
and the days here progress thoughtfully 

from winter to April to spring.