Here in the Pacific Northwest, spring is well underway. Crocuses are up, the trees are leafing out, and this delicious morning I found my first morel of the season. But not so elsewhere. This poem is for readers and friends elsewhere, especially on the east coast.
The first day of spring is one thing, and the first
spring day is another. The difference between them is
sometimes as great as a month. –Henry Van Dyke
One of the most viewed posts on my blog is one I wrote two springs ago. You can find it here. Welcome to the spring and new beginnings.