It is the emissary of spring when the wild fruit trees first bloom.
I witnessed the first tiny leaves of the Black Oak, nearly a month early, emerging next to a leaf from last Autumn that was too reluctant to fall.
On the first day of February, I heard what I thought was a deafening sound of cicadas, but learned it is the Pacific Chorus Frogs, and they haven’t stopped since, as if something ominous began that day and continues.
Out walking in the wild, on a trail near my house, I am reminded that in the absence of distractions, I begin to feel peaceful renewal . . . because in the dispassion of winter, I discovered within me an Invincible Spring.
Juno feels it too.
Early this morning I walked to my secret hidden knitting spot which from a neighboring high mountain vineyard overlooks a landscape of beautiful mountain ridges.  I caught the sun illuminating the gold on vines, and maple trees, a lovely sight which always takes my breath away.  Oh look!  Hot air balloons making their way from the valley floor up the side of the mountain!
