With the world shut down in fear of a microbe, I woke at Dawn in light rain.
The silence was deafening.
Cars and planes absent, the Highways and skyways sang the song that the creator had written long ago and I had nearly forgotten.
Warm spring breeze whispers to the trees- “wake up my beauties”
Starch turning to sugar is soon to blast leaves from winter buds.
Crust on flowerbeds begin to crack pushed aside as tiny green fingers throw off winter bedding.
Water trickles, transformed from icy grip.
A Chickadee beckons for his girlfriend Phoebe as Trumpeting Cranes stake out territory in the marsh.
Red-wing Blackbirds scree along with wicawicawica of dove flight.
Even the woodpeckers have a part to sing.
The world is not afraid of this day,
Nor am I.
