April’s spring debut.
Showers refresh gentle souls.
May’s glory beyond.
Snow’s quickly brushed off the park table, allowing for the season’s first picnic to begin.
The family gathered enjoys their ‘take out’ tuna while ice melts on the lake beyond.
One lone fisherman, sitting in the middle of the frozen water surrenders. He drags his toboggan through a white frosting of slush towards shore.
He empties his sled of poles, netting, beer and minnows. Placing the goods in his trunk, he puts the top down on his red VW convertible.
Once indie rock from his car radio disappears in the distance, I hear a different kind of music.
The first red winged blackbird of the season.
I sit on a sunny bench, close my eyes, and enjoy the concert.