The stars aligned on Tuesday afternoon.
Grandad home to listen for Sleeping Child?
I grabbed the camera, and headed for the back field to see what signs of spring might be found. It was cold and windy, but the sun was shining bright. The little stream that feeds our pond – I’ve been instructed that ‘creek’ is not in common use in Rhode Island, even though that’s the word I use inside my head – was gurgling merrily along, splashing up to freeze icicles onto a downed branch. The glowing-green water weeds made me forget (momentarily) that it was actually still winter.
Further along the mossy bank, in the boggy shade at the foot of an old maple tree, the skunk cabbages are poking their noses out of the mud.
The surest sign of all might be at the tippy-top of the willow trees…
Let’s look closer:
How ’bout a leeetle closer?
The pussy willows are budding!