This from a yogini/blogger/author seeking enlightenment in India: "I hate it when people do posts about the weather. It bores me senseless." Ah Braja, how differently I feel about that.
|Tundra Swans passing through. Hundreds and hundreds of them, on their way to the arctic for the summer.|
The change of seasons and weather creates movement in the natural world. Who would want to miss that?
Pussy willows under clouds and sun.
Crocus blooms, shining by themselves.
Sheep with their babies, let loose in the vineyards to trim the spring growth of grass.
The ponds all brimming with water, alive with frogs and newts. It may be that this bores you, but y'know what? I don't care, and could look at it all day.
The fields, emerald green: John and I had a picnic here the other day, soaking up the spring sun.
The weather is an unfolding, unending drama, never more so than in the spring of each year.