Some rhubarb is stewed and ready to sample tonight. The gardens are tilled, albeit a tad on the wet side. There are mallards nesting in the yard and the mower has had a few good workouts.
Chicken eggs are set in the incubator and the first crop of juvenile song birds are at the feeder. The forest is brilliant green with the new gloss still on the aspen. The smell is wild and exotic.
Another growing season has begun. One more precious spring to welcome.
Wish you were here.