Springshots.

Ah, spring! What joy! How well the great poet Chaucer put it: 

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, 

The droghte of March hath perced to the roote, 

And bathed every veyne in swich licóur 

Of which vertú engendred is the flour; 

Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth 

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth 

The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne...

Yeah, dude. Righteous.

You gotta love spring, if only because winter sucks so much. Yeah, the bugs are back, and some of the birds make a lot of noise, and some of the neighbors make a lot of noise, but it's okay. Why, I saw a pileated woodpecker the other day, not twenty feet away! Almost fainted with excitement. 

The bird was camera-shy, alas, but I offer these simple pictures of spring in her splendor. 

Okay, so this doesn't look like much. But when I see long, dead grass strands under my deck, I know what it means...

Construction time for the Robins again. 

The blooms look so wonderful that I hope we don't get snow in May again this year. Kills flowers dead.

The dogwood's already losing its petals. Lazy, that's what I call it. Well, let sleeping dogwoods lie. 

The maples are finally unfurling their leaves. Baby steps, maples. 

This tree always looks great. Except the year we got a late blizzard and it had so many leaves up already that the weight tore down several limbs. But it bounced back after a decade or so. Can't kill this guy.

And finally, daffodils. Maybe my favorite flower.
You forget the bulb is there and suddenly: Bing! I'm back!

The sunlight colors always look like hope.