The sound of rushing water is my background music right now. The ground is releasing its winter moisture, and every gully and depression is full and flowing, though it hasn’t rained in days. The sound of rushing water nearly overpowers the song of spring peepers in the evening and the soft call of the great horned owl in the early morning hours. It’s a gentle constant. For now.
Tomorrow April reasserts its variable self and will bring me rain and thunderstorms. The sound of rushing water will likely turn into a gush of water, only to be followed once more by winter’s silence. After—or perhaps during--the storms, the temperature will drop, snow might reappear but colder temperatures and ice certainly will reappear for another week or so.
Tomorrow April reasserts its variable self and will bring me rain and thunderstorms. The sound of rushing water will likely turn into a gush of water, only to be followed once more by winter’s silence. After—or perhaps during--the storms, the temperature will drop, snow might reappear but colder temperatures and ice certainly will reappear for another week or so.
The change of seasons never progresses slowly or even continuously. Seasons change in fits and starts—the old season fighting with the new for dominance, but the new season always wins, eventually.
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3 comments:
Seasons do indeed change in fits and spurts, love how you phrased that!
One of the things that continues to bring me back to your blog is your eloquence. You have a way of saying things, that make the reader want to be there to hear or see what you are hearing or seeing.
Nicole: I haven't decided if this latest swing back to winter is a fit or a start but it sure is annoying.
chicagolady: thanks so much for the kind words. It's being in the woods and in nature that brings out the eloquence. I sure don't have much of it in everyday life!
Carolyn H.
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