"DuckPond Sunday 2016"
Early March on a Sunday....
The noonday air retains the remembrance of deep Winter's chill. The Sun's warmth has lured us outside, as it draws the life from within many seeds hidden in cool, dark, and damp dirt.
Passing through the line of a tree trunk's shade reminds us that Spring is not yet here, but near. The distinct coolness of the shade tickles our bare arms. Back into the sun rays we move hungrily.
We hear the melody of duck voices at the duck pond. They must be talking of coming summer, egg laying, and ducklings. Their tones are softly pleasant as they drift on the gentle wisps of the southern breeze. Pulling the unmixed warm and cold air into our lungs is simply joyous.
We linger beside the Duck Pond on Sunday, as if the world has no cares.
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