Every day, sometimes every few hours, brings new evidence of spring. Yesterday, I heard a turkey gobbling somewhere in the woods behind the new pond. Chipping sparrows have arrived. Last night tree frogs were so loud in one small area that the sound was almost deafening. This morning I saw a swallow, probably a rough-winged swallow, but it didn't hang around long enough for me to be sure. I have spring beauties lining the driveway and in bloom.
And yesterday, yesterday, I saw the first Eastern blue butterfly. These are lovely and tiny little things, almost a lilac blue that always seem to show up around the start of trout season. I can remember many opening days of trout season sitting along the bank of a creek somewhere, while little clouds of these things floated along.
Has anyone ever written a poem, Ode to a Blue Butterfly? It seems to me as though that's one that's long overdue.