Slow Spring, fast Spring. The winter has been loathe to let go of us here in the northland. On the radio the other day, they said we were only a degree or two below normal, but I don’t believe it can only be two degrees. The same radio talkers reported that thousands of song birds have starved to death after April snows killed off all their insect food supply. It snowed on Easter, and again the weekend of Cliff-Dwellers’ wedding. Mother’s Day, always a warm sunny day, this year had lovely but weak sunshine and a breeze that made one’s skin pucker. So the weather has been slow to give Spring to the land, while in perceptible time, the months we call Spring, have seemingly flown past posthaste.
There was the Cliff-Dwellers’ wedding in mid April, which was a flurry of out-of-town guests (we even had a brave soul stay in the wreckage at the Treehouse—he was a very good sport and a lot of fun), birthday parties for little humans, two new humans born into this world (another kind of birthday party), and now we are in the middle of trying to plan the party-to-end-all-parties, a task which I am utterly unqualified for. So, pretty pictures, they will come… and some not pretty ones, too, perhaps. But for now, just words, words, words.