After a colorless winter,
the earth heaves a sigh of relief;
its breath rustles feathers, spins wildflowers into a dance, and stirs the dogwoods.
A chickadee examines a home in the dogwood tree;
What could be nicer than a curtain of lacy white?
Gold finches, so drab in the winter,
have put their down jackets in mothballs,
and now bid for attention as the males molt into their breeding colors...
and animate the forest with their brilliance.
There is gold in these hills,
not the kind of gold that many seek,
but warm and animated.
