Spring has finally settled in here in the Appalachain plateau of northeastern Pennsylvania. The Daffodils are drying their flowers, the Oak’s leaves are hiding its fruits, and the Alum are shooting up their petaled orbs.
I open the door to release restless pups, and they gallop into the yard, dawn breaking overhead. I open the refrigerator to grab peppers, onions, garlic, and ginger, with the gorgeous low-on-the-horizon beams flooding my kitchen. I pick out dropped leaves which lie among my flame red poinsettias, no matter how carefully I attend their food-making needs. These observations mark mid-winter. We in the northern hemisphere are inching toward equinox, toward sprouting bulbs and passerine symphonies.