This is not the first thing budding, but it is the first photographic evidence I’ve produced of the budding of spring.
Charlotte Brontë wrote of spring, “a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.”
She wrote that at a higher latitude where I’m writing this, so she must have been thinking of a bit later in the season than this. It’s not even true here yet, the part about the greenness. It could be the want, or the heart, but the freshening daily part has come to pass. Maybe it’s the Hope.
It was 60 and cloudy most of yesterday. It was sunny and made it to 66 degrees today. Tomorrow the forecast calls for the mid 60s and 70 degrees on Thursday.
Hope traverses us all at night.
