I looked for growing grass, and I found new blades growing from a fallen cottonwood trunk.
Blades of Grass on Fallen Cottonwood Trunk
I took a walk looking for signs of spring and heard a meadowlark singing, singing from a wire high above the earth.
In the underbrush, I followed a sparrow tending its nest.
The wind blew through the flowering aspens.
Moss grew in the woodlot.
A ruby-crowned kinglet checked my advance near the creek.
Today it rains; rain will fall through the night, the forecast tells. And then we will have new aspen leaves and bathing birds. I think this is probably true.
It is not spring’s progress to the south of us, but it is progress, nonetheless.