Phil Might Be Right

During our morning walk of our neighborhood creek (an unnamed tributary of White Rock Creek), Folsom and I explored the meadow and wooded areas abutting its limestone banks. Folsom, of course, hunted for rabbits and squirrels and rodents; he was oblivious to the Cardinal and Blue Heron. While he scampered, nose to the ground, I looked up into the trees. Today there seemed to be more birds than just yesterday. Not just in number but number of species, as well. In fact, everything looked a bit different, even the plants. I didn't notice new spring growth on Coralberry -- the thicket of 30 or 40 plants are still loaded with berries. Seedheads are still perched atop dormant Goldenrod. Obviously, it's still winter, but hints of imminent spring are everywhere. Mexican Hat rosettes pepper the meadow, along with juvenile Indian Blanket, Verbascum, and many other wildflowers. It won't be long before the deciduous trees and shrubs refoliate and colorful blooms emerge. The groundhog did not see his shadow last Friday. If legend holds true, perhaps the splendor of spring will arrive very soon.