This winter has gone by so quickly,
But there is nothing like that longing for Spring...
Perhaps it's the yellow of the sun, instead of the gray of winter
Maybe it's that fresh smell in the air
The tiny haze of red from the buds growing on the maples,
Or that breeze blowing across the ground to melt the leftover snow piles.
In honor of spring, we brought in some branches, and pushed apple buds,
As well as a few birds' nests that had fallen from the wind-blown branches
(We must have several families of hummingbirds, we've found so many of their deserted nests)