It’s springtime here in central Virginia. The morning is gray and cloudy.
Last night’s rain has washed away the pollen that blanketed everything in a fine, yellow powder, leaving it glistening and shiny.
The trees are gently waving in the breeze. Some still have buds on them and look bare. At lot of them have small, bright green leaves popping out all over. The pear trees are bursting with white flowers.
Outside my window is a shrub that has grown wild. It stays green all year. The new leaves on it are a bright, reddish pink. They almost look like flowers from far way.
There’s a male cardinal sitting on a branch of the fig tree, singing to his mate. I hear the calls of other birds and see a blue jay flitting from place to place. Robins are on the ground searching for bugs and worms. It’s such a quiet morning, I can ever hear the sound of a woodpecker looking for his breakfast.
The squirrels are in springtime mode also. They frolic and play, chasing each other from the ground up into the trees and back again.
Later, the sun will appear and the quiet will disappear. Dogs will be let out into yards and will start to bark at anything they see move. Children will flower the air with the sounds of laughter and happy screams. Lawn mowers will fire up.
We’ll open the windows and the sounds will be louder. They’re good sounds, happy sounds. The dog will want to go outside and lay in the sun. The smell of cut grass will waft in, along with the pollen, and the sniffly nose will start again. Another sign of spring to me!
A springtime morning. The rebirth of life after a long, cold winter.