Spring

The garden is now flooded to its banks and the lower third of the paddock is water on the move. Dozens of crows feast on worms drowned by the week of rain, and the deer are back, timidly snacking on the hay and flapping their fluffy tails at me. The ground is 2/3 clear of snow, the crocuses are coming, and Spring is here. Mucky is rolling in the mud, caking his mane and getting his blanket twisted; crows are using the slowly flowing paddock lake as a birdbath. Everywhere the earth is thawing, and drinking, and the sun is pulling life back up from under the snow.

And I remain, remarkably, the happiest girl in the world.

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