I have been watching the unfolding of spring here in Lancaster County. There was the downpour last weekend, days of rain, inches of water. Flooding. And now we see the greening of the world, really a yellow-greening. It started with weeping willows, whose supple fronds sway in the wind, reminding me of a young girl running in a meadow with her hair blowing behind her.
Each day as I drive to Reading the landscape changes, greens a bit more, and now the deep brown of freshly plowed fields touches the pale stubble left from last year's corn, touches the hints of green where winter wheat is coming up. And this does not take into account the daffodils and grape hyacinths, flowering plum and cherry trees, magnolias ready to pop with color. What a feast for the senses! I'm always grateful to live where there are seasons.
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