I go on walks daily through our neighborhood, usually in a wide circle around our house, or down to the road that runs along the lake shore. Toward the end of winter, I keep an eye peeled for the first sign of spring, the sign that gives me the greatest hope that winter is finally beginning to release its grasp on us: When the first blossoms emerge from the leaf litter and open in the sunshine. I look forward to that day like no other.

Today was the day.

As always, I recall the benediction of e.e. cummings on this day:

spring omnipotent goddess thou dost
inveigle into crossing sidewalks the
unwary june-bug and the frivolous angleworm
thou dost persuade to serenade his
lady the musical tom-cat, thou stuffest
the parks with overgrown pimply
cavaliers and gumchewing giggly
girls and not content
spring, with this
thou hangest canary-birds in parlor windows

spring slattern of seasons you
have dirty legs and a muddy
petticoat, drowsy is your
mouth your eyes are sticky
with dreams and you have
a sloppy body
from being brought to bed of crocuses
When you sing in your whiskey-voice
the grass
rises on the head of the earth
and all the trees are put on edge

spring,
of the jostle of
thy breasts and the slobber
of your things
i am so very
glad that the soul inside me Hollers
for thou comest and your hands
are the snow
and thy fingers are the rain,
and i hear
the screech of dissonant
flowers, and most of all
i hear your stepping
freakish feet
feet incorrigible
ragging the world,

e.e. cummings