I awoke this morning and looked out my window to find, under a gray sky, this beautiful harbinger of spring where yesterday there were only bare branches. I love surprises, and this one will have me smiling all day.
"The forest trees have yet a sighing mouth,
Where dying winds of March their branches swing,
While upward from the dreamy, sunny South,
A hand invisible leads on the Spring.
His rounds from bloom to bloom the bee begins
With flying song, and cowslip wine he sups,
Where to the warm and passing southern winds
Azaleas gently swing their yellow cups.
Soon everywhere, with glory through and through,
The fields will spread with every brilliant hue."
-George Marion McClellan
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