A quiet story about coming out of a long, silent austerity into the startlingly lush experience of in-person conversation and a meal with another couple outside of our bubble.

Grab a cup of coffee and I’ll walk you through a couple of happy hours I spent with my camera on Easter afternoon at the Tarryall Reservoir State Wildlife Area.

Our fence posts seemed to be a set of crosses with a message: Spring is here, the tomb is empty, and resurrection, rebirth and new growth are real.

Here’s a Texas bluebonnet for you. It’s our state flower, and this one is still in the process of opening up. I think it is a metaphor for now.

Frogs can and do freeze, including their hearts, and then thaw and get right back to living their everyday froggy life when it warms up. We’re doing the renewal pruning at Glover Gardens in our own efforts to get our green back.

In the winter of our COVID-19 discontent, spring is a reminder that resilience, empathy and love are the strongest contagions.

And then, all of the sudden, it flew away, wafting on the breeze high above the cypress trees, its wings fluttering a timeless message: fear not, only believe.

The story this picture tells is the relentless march of “progress” and how we continue to eradicate nature in favor of more and more and more and MORE cement and “convenience”.

The orange tree reminds us that spring is here, even though it is cold and wet.

Everything in nature this spring seems brighter, fresher, more vibrant than usual. Like these turtle pals.

Glover Gardens is an aromatherapy district with an abundance of jasmine this spring.

A humble little poem welcoming spring’s call.

Haiku for spring dandelions.