Heavy Winds

It's almost like carnage along the roadway today as maple sprouts and pine boughs litter the ground. Winds of 40 and 50 miles an hour blew through the day yesterday and last night in gusts that challenged the rubbery flexibility inherent in trees. The biggest leaves payed the most. The maples have been culled by nature. The rains continue too. No sun for days, and the Earth taking on a richer deeper hue of green. Even the catalpa has sprouted. Spring is here and lurching toward summer. The oriole has settled in to the white oak near my house. The mockingbird has continued on. The cycles of wildlflower bloom have begun. Celandine, with its oversized hawthorne-like leaves and mustard flowers, grows and blooms at the back of my yard. Ground ivy makes its way up the edges of my fence in a brilliant deep purple. One cherry has bloomed and passed, the other has not yet bloomed. The decorative patterns of the spring New England landscape are enough to make the deepest cynic smile. There is a tenaciousness with more nobility than the seeming forces of human power. And we are glad to know that today.