How we welcome and relate to our late-blooming spring this year! It’s a time of rebirth when the trees shed their nakedness and become adorned with tiny sprouting buds of hopefulness.
In the two weeks we’ve been home, we’ve witnessed the beech trees go from being closed tight against a long winter to joyous beginnings. The leaves are still so young that they hang earthward, but within another week or two, they’ll rise toward the sun.
On our walks, we see the forest slowly awaken, and growth is seen daily. Even the birdsong is different. Today, we heard our first pileated woodpecker. It was so declarative that all three of us stopped in mid-stride to cock our ears toward the distinctive announcement.
And just as I’ve seen the woodland realm begin to stir, I’ve watched Samwise reclaim his health as he bounces along the trail, ears flopping—sometimes flying, when he runs—mouth open not because of labored breathing but out of a need to taste the world he’s dancing with.
I’m overjoyed seei…
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