The snow is fading quickly now. Dribbling down the old dirt roads, into creeks, and eventually the river. I can sit in my front yard, I can play by the birdfeeder in the opposite area, and I can walk- just walk- on plane mud ground. Waterfowl have all migrated. And something magical is happening. You can't see it, or hear it, or smell it. But you can feel it. The ground is shifting. Waking after an old winter. Yawning it's first big breath of the early morning. Grass has yet to bloom. Ice has yet to completely vanish. But it's here. Spring has officially arrived, and it's taking the land by the hand and running wild into the summer.
