Nature appears unready to relinquish it’s toe hold on winter. It’s easy to defy the idea that spring will never come by immersing my soul in the beauty of this first day of April.
Hoar frost, fog, air sprinkled with ice spikes
Flowing river water sings tinkling songs as it weaves among ice shards
A majestic fog bound Paddle-wheeler idly floats among ice songs
Fluffy Chickadees spill songs high in the sky, discussing the world with unseen neighbours
How Bohemian the waxwings are as they gather to write songs and dip their rusty tails in yellow paint
So the day is not a joke after all.