Yesterday Leo brought home tulips from our garden. Today the flowers are dancing in their vase, remembering the songs of birds and the warmth of the morning sun.
 

The yellow fringe of the witch hazel bush smiles brightly in the chilly afternoon sun of early March.
 

In a crevasse of the rock garden stuffed with last year’s curling oak leaves, blue bells ring announcing the triumph of spring!
 

Mr. Robin, classic harbinger of the coming season beats the rush by never leaving the neighborhood. His yellow beak, like a swelling daffodil bud, will burst into song—claiming the garden as his own.
 

The black twisted branches of a maple tree burst into life with chartreuse blossoms mocking the rows of soldier bricks held in the tight grasp of immutable mortar.
 

What does the maple tree know of Boston restraint? She bursts into bloom but the busy city- people rush on by. Tomorrow seed wings will fly from branches high above the street where car horns blare with impatience at slow-pokes at a traffic light.
 

Mr. Cardinal perches on our garden fence puzzling over the noisy traffic and wondering if humans ever sing.


The forsythia hedge squeezes together tightly, laughing at the tickle.
 

Looming above the blossoming crabapple in our garden, the tower of Babel presumes to insure against misfortune. Soon the spring flower petals will fall, dancing gaily, letting go with joy.


The magnolia wears chilly rain drops on her pink cheeks—jewels of spring turning pink blossoms into green leaves. Can you hear the robin’s song? It is short and oh, so sweet!
 

The red tailed hawk and the pigeon on shelters perch—each looking out for his own interest. Do they know how close they are?
 

Having spent the winter sleeping deeply in the silent earth, the gossiping daffodils are eager to speak.
 

The forsythia bush beneath the mulberry tree cannot speak to the blue sky in July so she must shout loudly when she can. Don’t you find her urgent cry beautiful?
 

The families of Johnny jump-ups are our true friends, always eager to say hello—staying till the end of the party.