We've since returned to winter's wiles (i'm lookin' at you, projected eighteen inches this weekend). But, for a short string of days, the warmth of the sun was upon our skin. This particular day found us at the park. Spring is a long way's off, still. And certainly so in denver -- where it often snows through May.
But, that's spring's way. And i've come to identify with spring as I age.
Spring's quite like a woman. A bit inconsistent, sometimes moodier than she'd like to admit - but, also, brimming with a certain indelible grace. Like the tree-birds she is known for, the birdsong o' spring is wonderfully dynamic -- how the trill crests and falls. She's a bit of a wild woman, spring. I like her that way.