This morning several more joined the chorus.
What is it about the song of a wood thrush,
that sounds so impossibly lovely?
I think it's how the sound echoes through the forest,
a bit like an echo, a call to spring.
The song wraps around the trees
like a present, or a cat winding between my ankles.
"I'm here, let the spring begin."
I can't resist a dirt road, or lane or path.
Occasionally, the sun comes out.