The coming of spring is one of those things. The crocus, spring’s first flower, spied and photographed by my friend David Livingston in Greenwich Village.
For winter’s rains and ruins are over,
and all the season of snows and sins,
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night that wins,
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten
And in green underwood and cover,
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Atlanta in Calydon 1865
Hints and Echoes 
It sure did feel like spring today. I’m crossing my fingers and toes that it sticks. If there ever was a year it felt like it would NEVER come it was this year.
LikeLike
Saw a cormorant on the same nest she uses every year out at the beach this past Monday–a sure sign of Spring. My favorite Emily Dickinson poem. ” A little bird came down the walk, It didn’t know I saw, It bit an angle worm in halves, and ate the fellow raw. Then it drank a dew, from a convenient grass, Then it side-stepped to the wall to let a beetle pass. I memorized this in first grade.
LikeLike
Do they still teach kids to memorize poetry? I’m all in favor of it. I can still remember several from my grade school days. “Heaven is not reached in a single bound; we climb the ladder by which we rise, rung by rung to the starry skies. . . .”
LikeLike