It was finally warm today, warm enough to be relished, warm enough to just sit on the steps and listen to the birds and the peepers, the sweet voices of spring. Peepers singing from the marsh down near the railroad tracks, their throats billow with each chirp, I have gone into the woods following their fairy bell song, but they see me coming, and go silent, only once did I ever get to see on singing.
And of course the leeks, those pungent little members of the garlic family, "ya love
'em or ya hate 'em" sometimes you even look forward to them. I put them to soak , changing the water often, and raked up winters litter of sticks and pine cones.
Once I had finished my raking for the day, sat on the steps and enjoyed the warmth and chorus of spring songs, set to work trimming and cleaning the leeks.
The miniature daffs rescued from the grocery stores garbage, who repay me each year with their cheerful color.
The flowering quince, who's blooms will attacked the first hummingbirds.
And the crocus, that were here before I got here, and will be here I hope long after I am gone.