It was a beautiful morning to be out early; I drove down the mountain to walk with friend Kym. Redbud is bursting at the edges of the road and woods, with sarvis lacy against the new green leaves of the lower slopes of the mountain. Creatures were wandering the darkness again; deer ambling across the road toward the day's shelter of the woods, a blinking raccoon nosing in the ditch, looking for a last minute meal. Our walk was peaceful, watching the rising sun between the hills and seeing the light streak and shadow across the mountains.
On the way home a collie dog trotted across the field after a night out, heading back to the house for his breakfast. Stretches of quiet fields along the way, with long shadows of hummock and shrub shadowing hollows and rises. Then, a sudden movement, right by the road, as a fox, golden in the new light, pounced with a flick of a bushy tail into the grass to capture her prey.
Yesterday we saw a hawk over the fields, circling, hunting. Small birds sheltered in twiggy shrubs. The grass is greener, and my favorite quince is starting to bloom. But most of the trees still look bare, with a red haze of buds that promise new growth. My daffodils and bluebells bloom in the cold, while irises, lilies and tulips spike up through the leaf litter and dead grass. Cold mornings warm into beautiful days.