Stories Told in Spring

 Just above his hole, Spring was in the air, and penetrating the earth below, especially in the home of Mr. Mole. 

He had been busy spring cleaning, but now, that would have to wait. For he must answer this mystical call. 

He popped out of his hole and rolled into a meadow.
The sweetest songbirds he ever heard, and colors never dreamed before, 
as he made his way into a whole new world
of many worlds...

When Mr. Mole arrived at the river's edge, he was bewitched, transfixed, 
and so was I,
the first time I laid eyes on an Ozarks River

Spring Greetings to All
(hope to do more posts in Spring)

Photo Credit - Meadow; Dion Art 
2 pix from the treasured book, "The Wind In The Willows,"  a gift from my mother


  1. The smell of flowers growing vs. the smell of fresh mown grass battle it out daily in my neighborhood, where no two neighbors mow on the same day.


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