After the Storm

 After the Storm!

 Our snow pile! Our two boys are in charge of shoveling our driveway. "Mom, we are running out of room to put the snow!"

They would climb the pile and push it into  our neighbors lawn. They could easily jump the fence.  I loved watching them out the kitchen window. They would stand up on the bank and knock each other down.

  Lilac bushes are hanging over, full of snow and ice.

 Another snow bank!

Over the winter glaciers

I see the summer glow

And through the wild - piled snowdrifts

The warm rose-buds below.

 

This is my path to feed the birds.

Piped a tiny voice hard by,

Gay and Polite, a cheerful cry -

Chic-chicadeedee! saucy note

Out of sound heart and merry throat,

As if it said, "Good - day, good sir! 

Fine afternoon, old passenger!

Happy to meet you in these places

Where January brings few faces."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat-
You must have walked-
How out of breath you are!
Dear March, how are you?

Emily Dickinson

March is a play actor, an Indian giver.

March is a warm soft spring day.

March is a sudden blizzard.

March is a balmy breeze from the South.

March is an icy blast from the North.

We watch the sky.

We watch for the first robin, the first honk of geese.

Under the snow there buried seeds, hidden roots, the wakening of buds.

So much to look forward to!

Daffodils

Tulips

Crocus

"Sing a song of Spring" cried the pleasant April rain

With a thousand sparkling tones upon the window pane,

And the flowers hidden in the ground woke dreamily and stirred,

From root to root, from seed to seed, crept swiftly the happy word.

Celia Thaxter