Spring's Ballet

Remnants from winter's dying winds blow viciously yet almost still at times. The gentle tinkling of my wife's wind chimes signal that there is still life in these northern blows as well as the barely green trees that gently sway when the wind dies. The skimpily dressed harbingers of spring increase their ballet to the tune of the chimes when assaulted by the wind, continuing to shake their new found dress in hopeful anticipation of being more fully clothed before summer's relentless heat stills the days and oppresses my tired weary body. I hide in the confines of my home, spoiled by the early warm temperatures that have encouraged the trees to reveal their pale green grandeur. I long to be outside in the elements, tending the ground, being a helpful catalyst for the renewal that is revealing itself each morning. The howling of the wind and the unpleasant chill offer no encouragement for my aspirations. I will write, reflect, plan and fill my time with other less noble pursuits. Besides, I must shepherd my energies wisely, since my wife and I have the privilege to ride herd on our three granddaughters this afternoon. Perhaps they will favor us with a ballet of their own!