Although there is rain in the forecast this afternoon (for the nine-hundredth day IN A ROW), this morning was beautiful, so I spent the better part of it walking.
The Northeast Ohio spring has been so cold and wet and dreary that our deciduous trees are still sans leaves, which has been more off-putting than I would have guessed. The light is weird. The smell of spring is AWOL despite the calendar. The same goes for the rustling sound of leaves; the wind still produces that hollow wintry noise.
When I came upon this tree, I stopped and stared. With dewy eyes, I blinked at the humble buds. I stood there in quiet wonderment for some minutes as though I was gazing at garlands of emeralds dripping from the branches.
"Hi," I said.
* * *