A New Week, April 22.

The Resident Anchorite , the single crocus and I saw it on April 20. I seem to be reluctant to put into words why I am looking for some form of benediction. But not to acknowledge that the Bombing at the Boston Marathon, on April 15, took place, is childish and cowardly. I am walking around on Earth Day looking at the early blooms to catch something. I can only come up with persistence. Goodly persistence is kind of powerful, I think.

Glory of Snow, with its early  start, captures my heart.

Push into the Mother and Daughter Re-union.

"When Persephone returns from the underworld each year, Demeter makes the earth bloom and grow beautifully which is the time of year we know as Spring and Summer. When Persephone returns to the underworld, Demeter stops and Fall & Winter arrive."

The Greeks have a visceral way of explaining for the seasons which is quite satisfying until we found that our little planet revolves round the sun with its axis tilted at 23.5 degree to the ecliptic. I think Shaw mentioned that every time you learn a new thing you lose something. 

I should go out and clear the debris around the daffodil shoots, and the cobwebs from my head.

A Pleasant Process

Watching the environs coming out of Winter never gets stale for me. So the 4-5 hrs drive is pleasant. This early April, budding and blooming is not quite discernible and thus,  does not catch the eye. Instead, it is the bird life that  shows the developing Spring. Not abundant in numbers but then the route runs through long settled areas. Young ducks on melting puddles, a flight of four geese flying low to a pond and a flock of black starlings on the branches of a silver birch.

On a secondary road a Hungarian partridge was in our path. We could see that it was going into a play dead mode. To avoid it, the driver could safely veer. I didn't want him to get onto  the soft shoulder, and warned him with, "Save us." We stopped aslant the bird, which flew across the windshield. We continued on. In threes and fours, the less sung crows were at play, flying above the road. Not cold and scavenging. A robin, with its signature breast, on a wet brown lawn and a bald eagle circling in the sky. No flights of fancy but heartwarming creatures.