Golden-Fronted Woodpecker Spring is evident everywhere I look. New green shoots sprout from limbs, and blossoms are in full bloom. This time of year our three Texas Live Oaks push old leaves out, with the growth of new ones, and drop fuzzy green pollen far and wide. It's a sure seasonal sign. To our consternation, the largest of the great oaks hangs over our pool and supplies an endless rain of debris into it for more than a month. Although my husband would love to rid the backyard of the offending tree, I absolutely love it and its removal is unconscionable. Just this morning, a pair of golden-fronted woodpeckers were hoping around its trunk. Its enormous canopy, already home to migrating birds, is filled with song. There is something quintessential and ethereal about the song birds' arrival with spring.
Excitement comes when I stroll my backyard among the little grove of fruit trees. The orange, grapefruit (two varieties), lemon, apricot, peach, and plum are budding small white flowers, and bees buzz happily among them. The sage, rosemary, and basil bloom alongside the hibiscus tree. All, but my Spanish grapes, seem to be in full spring swing.
This year we've had a long cool winter and a wonderfully wet spring. As a result, fecundity abounds in my garden. My little urban nature area relaxes and imbues the spirit. At the moment, I look out my window and see soft rain gently falling turning the grass emerald green. The roses appear luminous, their brilliant colors glisten in the diffuse daylight.
It is an overcast Saturday afternoon. The kind of day to curl up with a good book, or wistfully compose introspective poetry with your "teetering bulb of dread and dream" (line in the poem the Floor by by Russell Edson). I think I'll give it a try...
A Spring Day
An auspicious day I suspect
when writers write, artists create,
and the mind quiets down to contemplate.
When soft rain melts away winter's shroud
and awakens the dormant leaf
When horizons roil in dark black cloud
and creatures revive from winter's release - by Chelse Benham (a Lae Lae team member)
Excitement comes when I stroll my backyard among the little grove of fruit trees. The orange, grapefruit (two varieties), lemon, apricot, peach, and plum are budding small white flowers, and bees buzz happily among them. The sage, rosemary, and basil bloom alongside the hibiscus tree. All, but my Spanish grapes, seem to be in full spring swing.
This year we've had a long cool winter and a wonderfully wet spring. As a result, fecundity abounds in my garden. My little urban nature area relaxes and imbues the spirit. At the moment, I look out my window and see soft rain gently falling turning the grass emerald green. The roses appear luminous, their brilliant colors glisten in the diffuse daylight.
It is an overcast Saturday afternoon. The kind of day to curl up with a good book, or wistfully compose introspective poetry with your "teetering bulb of dread and dream" (line in the poem the Floor by by Russell Edson). I think I'll give it a try...
A Spring Day
An auspicious day I suspect
when writers write, artists create,
and the mind quiets down to contemplate.
When soft rain melts away winter's shroud
and awakens the dormant leaf
When horizons roil in dark black cloud
and creatures revive from winter's release - by Chelse Benham (a Lae Lae team member)
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