Spring Scatterhead

Spring is here. The trees have leafed out; morels are raising their heads in the woods, and mornings see the sibilant twitter and song of warblers everywhere. I am dizzy with it all, drunk with travel and festival doings. Just back from the New River Birding and Nature Festival in Fayetteville, WV, and it was divine. Just divine. The sun shone all week which I feel safe in saying has never once happened in the 11 years Bill and I have been working the festival. It was simply amazing. And the birds were so happy that they posed for the birders, and it was a harmonious happening. 

The Rain Crows played there Saturday night, debuting a bunch of new original songs and our new CD, "Dream of Flying Dream." Have I had time to get an online order form together? No. The grass is growing too fast, but not under my feet. Bill had the 1,000 CD's shipped straight to the festival. That is how close to the line we're cutting our lives these days. And it is fabulous.

Today it was sunny from wakeup to 1:30 PM. I went for a run, washed and hung out three loads of laundry, rototilled the very weedy garden, laid down a bale of straw to keep that from happening once more; let the hay on the lawn dry a bit, mulched the asparagus, took in the laundry, and finished raking lawnhay as the rain started to pelt down. We need it so badly, and it sounds and smells so sweet hitting the new hosta leaves, out there in the dark. It's been a crappy spring for frogs and salamanders. Just enough rain to dupe them into laying eggs, and then all their puddles dry up. Repeat. This is probably why frogs live 18 years, right, Raoul?

I'm very slowly emptying the greenhouse. It is bittersweet, for I love it so much. Everything grows so well in its lovely space.

The mornings have been beautiful. The redbellies are courting. Courting, with woodpeckers, can be as simple as being near each other. Woodpeckers are solitary beings, and being near is very exciting for them. This male was kwirring at the female (left) and tossing his flaming head side to side.

The deer are looking a little less shabby and slab-sided. The does are beginning to round out.

Chet and I run every day we can. I can't miss these mornings, these misty flaming bowls of beauty laid out before us.

We saw three wild turkehs cross the road. And he did not chase them, because he knew they were birds. I was so proud of my boy. But he did look down where they went.

I loved this waterfall, and prefocused on the rock I knew Chet would choose to cross the stream. Serendipity favors the prepared mind. And bright sunlight favors the telephoto lens.

I love my little athlete, my heartbeat, my mandog.

If I seem scattered, if I miss a beat here and there, please understand. It's spring, and I have a lot of speaking engagements. Beyond that, it's spring and I'm everywhere at once, in the treetops and the leaf litter, in the warm breeze and the soil, helpless in its thrall.