Spring is in the air,
The frigid blankness that is winter lost its war,
the army of snowmen have returned to the ground,
the snow banks have melted into nothingness,
and the temperature still rises higher.
The vibrant flowers have made their comeback,
the fastidious tepid weather has returned once again.
As I look out the window,
at all the beauty that is spring,
I get the urge to get on my feet
and take a long walk in the fresh, warm, humid, April air.
I walk out the front door, down the cold stone stairs
as I listen to the cheerful songs of the woodpeckers
in the tall, green tips of mulberry trees,
and the soft crunch of sticks and leaves
as I make my way down the winding dirt trail.
Between rows of tall mulberry, oak, and pine trees.
Stopping to feel the rough bark of a nearby mulberry tree,
The small black berries, dangling from the branches
like a million sweet tiny teardrops,
with a few sour white berries, still half grown.
Inhaling deeply, absorbing the sweet scent of fresh mulberries,
just as I see a deer soar out of a thicket into a nearby clearing,
in search for food.
Spring is in the air.