It’s the first day of Spring. March 20, 2021.
It’s a welcomed day among.
In the Pacific Northwest, it’s in the air.
While on a walk or a #pnw drive.
Trees, leaves are a budding.
I see Crocus, Daffodils, Primrose, Pansies, and Hyacinthus.
The Juncos and a variety of birds, bees are making their way to feed.
Rain, Clouds, Sun. A welcomed site.
We hear frogs making their song… especially in the evening light.
The crescent moon and stars are shown.
Spring has sprung.
on this last day of the month
a winter walk
the time was had
to get out and about
to move the body
the mind is clear
to see the leaves
many trees are bare
the seasons are appreciated
nature rules
Ready to say goodbye to Summer? You may not have been last week but now that Autumn has officially arrived, you just might be. It’s a collection of new beginnings, traditions, festivals, and a time to settle in for the upcoming Winter. The leaves turn color and fall to the earth. The wind and rain show themselves. As it is a fascinating time, you may yearn to know more. Check out the links below for some Autumn (and Fall) content and if you want more…search for it.
http://www.al.com/news/index.ssf/2015/09/first_day_of_fall_2015_quotes.html
http://www.seattletimes.com/seattle-news/weather/fall-forecast-warm-and-dry-across-nw/
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/2015/09/150922-equinox-autumn-seasons-sun-moon-space-science/
http://www.treehugger.com/natural-sciences/11-facts-about-autumnal-equinox.html
Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.
– John Muir
Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
– Emily Bronte
Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile.
– William Cullen Bryant
falling leaves
hide the path
so quietly
– John Bailey
“Autumn”, haiku
Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
– George Eliot
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