I am sitting on a lounge chair that can be manipulated into almost any position. It sits on the floor and can be flat or clicked into a chaise lounge (or any other creative design).
I love this chair. From it I can survey our entire back yard but tonight my attention is captured by the green of the grass.
The willow tree was the first to remind me, a few days ago, that our endless winter did not end the hope of spring. The willow is less defined tonight as the other leaf bearing trees have joined in evidencing victory.
Yet, somehow, it is the grass that seems to be singing. The grass is celebrating.
I am celebrating with it.
The katydids are chirping.
I saw a bluebird today.
A bullfrog has nested in my Koi pond.
But, still, the grass is the object of my toast.
I pray that my life can be an announcement that winter, however, long and brutal, will retreat with the arrival of Spring, whose power no foe can withstand.