Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Man.

80° over the weekend. Glorious.

My kid and the neighbor's kid were out running around in their swimsuits yesterday. This is March?

I dragged the porch furniture up out of the basement yesterday. The cat was a bit miffed that I took her favorite sleeping spot away, but I'm glad to have the extra space restored in the basement. Now if I can just get to St. Vincent de Paul with the stuff I'm giving away, I'll have even more room down there.

I gave up on wearing turtlenecks several weeks ago but it still seems to be a big leap to shorts and sandals. And yet, here I am. Please note that you do not hear me complaining.

One of the things I love about spring is its' ephemeral nature. The quick succession from bud to bloom to leaf happens almost in the blink of an eye.

One of the surest signs of spring is the sound of birds singing in the predawn hours. That's one sound I miss when fall comes. But in the spring, the birds are singing to catch a mate and the air is saturated with the sound. I have a pair of doves checking out the vine-covered pergola over my deck as a possible location for their nest. If you've never awakened to the sound of a dove's soft cooing outside your window, I suggest you search out the experience.

To delight in the act of creation, whether through your own hands or through the observation of other creatures, is one of the traits that ties us to God, I think.




-- Mox