in the woods // spring

The wood is decked in light green leaf.
The swallow twitters in delight.
The lonely vine sheds joyous tears
Of interwoven dew and light.


— from “Spring” by Ilia Chavchavadze

Today was the first time I’ve been out in the woods since I tried to make a go of it about a month ago (I had to turn back last time because it was just too muddy). Words, and even these pictures, cannot truly convey the way in which the woods is simply aglow with new green leaves. After I dropped Zane off at preschool, I decided to take a walk around the pond by myself. I am so glad that I did because it was exactly the right moment in time to see the wakerobins,Trillium, in bloom — they are the gorgeous three-petaled red flowers below. My goodness, they are beautiful! (But, don’t pick them because picking even parts of the plant can kill it, and in some places picking them is illegal.) I also saw a rose-breasted grosbeak, some trout lillies,Erythronium, and some wild oats,Uvularia sessilifolia. On top of all of that, the morning light was just amazing. The whole experience made me want to sing the Doxology at the top of my lungs, though the local wildlife might have found that a bit overwhelming so I just hummed it quietly to myself instead.

in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring
in the woods // spring

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our week // vol 7

Even the prick of the thistle,
queen of the weeds, revives
your secret belief
in perpetual spring,
your faith that for every hurt
there is a leaf to cure it.


— from “In Perpetual Spring” by Amy Gerstler

our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7

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our week // vol 6

Because I love the world
I think of grass,
I think of leaves
and the bold sun…
– – –
Teacher, what do you mean?
But faith is still there, and silent.
– – –
And who else could this be, who goes off
down the green path,
carrying His sandals, and singing?

— from “Spring” by Mary Oliver

(you should really read the whole poem; it’s wonderful)

our week // vol 6
our week // vol 6
our week // vol 6
our week // vol 6
our week // vol 6
our week // vol 6
our week // vol 6
our week // vol 6
our week // vol 6

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the first day of spring

From The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder:

Sometime in the night Laura heard the wind. It was still blowing furiously but there were no voices, no howls or shrieks in it. And with it there was another sound, a tiny, uncertain, liquid sound that she could not understand…She listened as hard as she could. She uncovered her ear to listen and the cold did not bite her cheek. The dark was warmer. She put out her hand and felt only a coolness. The little sound that she heard was a trickling of water-drops. The eaves were dripping. Then she knew.

All photos taken with my Samsung Galaxy S4 & the VSCO Cam app.

the first day of spring

the first day of spring

the first day of spring

the first day of spring

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the first day of spring

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