April may be the cruellest month for the poet, but for me, it’s a time for newness and hope. It’s Easter month, but winter’s not totally gone yet for us, despite the official arrival of spring according to the calendar.
Many of you might be enjoying colorful roses blooming in your garden, this is what I see when I head out to the woods today––the last day of March––snow-covered creek and dried cattails from autumn past:
But the Pond is teeming with life, a cacophony of bird calls from everywhere. Here’s our first robin coming back from afar, the sure sign of spring:
Plenty of buds for the hungry chickadee:
And from afar, a coyote, which doesn’t look too enthused about the changing season. I’ve to warn a mother pushing a baby carriage nearby:
On the river, it’s a different picture:
It’s courting season already. The male Goldeneyes doing their mating dance… stretching their necks upright and singing their tune. The females (brown heads) don’t seem too interested though:
Oops just a bit too close. It’s been a few months of house-bound inactivity, don’t mind me getting excited for a better pic:
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