Spring Equinox

I live on a willow farm. It seems so short a time ago that the rain began to fall, that I looked back at the end of the willow rows, where the farm fields start, and noticed that bare branches rattled in the breeze, naked, starkly framing the sky. Today on my Luna’s walk, I looked back to find they have all erupted in full tender green foliage, softening lines, gently waving hellos. Gone are the small soft pussy willow buds that we cut and put in vases. They have burst into seed and fallen to the ground like slimy dead caterpillars. This last heavy rain beat them down, making way, making way. Sky, the mama dog next door, has weaned her puppies and fervently drinks all of Luna’s water after a quick snuffled hello. Click, the season turns again.