Spring is unfolding incrementally around here.
I appreciate the slow reveal.
When the seasons move too fast, I get anxious that I am missing something, not appreciating the moment as I worry that it will be over too soon (sound familiar, motherhood?).
That time will come soon enough.
But now the background is stark enough that each bud opening, each catkin unfurling, each flower blossoming makes an impression.
Last week we had rain-tease all week and morning temps still in the 30s.
Z won a bet with M that there would still be snow around on May 1.
It was just a little mound of crystals, pushed by the plow and buried under a blanket of pine needles, but it was still snow.
Yesterday I went to work in a down coat and came home in glorious 82 degree heat.
Sunday I sat by our pond and watched painted turtles sun, warblers flit through the trees, an enormous snapping turtle stumble-crash over the bank and into the water, its grapefruit-sized head snorkeling to the surface every few minutes. I think I could sit like that for the whole month of May, watching spring unfurl one leaf, one petal, one frog, one bird, one turtle at a time.