The sun blesses me with a cameo appearance today, breaking up the cold monotony of March if but for one cheerful moment.  Unseen birds beckon me to give the outside world a glance and my startled gaze falls upon the huge Oak three houses down.  Buds.  It has buds on it.  I am now completely distracted from my conversation as I strain to see to the west, to the east, to the north.  Three windows.  Three views.  Three confirmations.  Buds.  On all the trees.  Joining the tulips and crocuses, the forsythia and the daffodils, the hyacinths and the newly-green-again grass.  How did I miss it?

Death is losing its grip on Central Ohio.  Life is springing forth unimpeded in all of its wet, sloppy glory.  Today, there is mud on the floor and well-worn winter coats near the back door to ward off the last of the chill, but tomorrow the trees will be clothed with leaves and I will be putting away my sweaters and wondering what I did with my flip-flops and capri pants.  

Buds.  It will not be long now.

nature reflection