Spring Thaw

A group of 4 year olds wriggled passionatley over this book, hands stretching trying to reach the pages, all wanting to express something or go inside the scenery of outstretched meadows and open sky, dangling drops of water caught in mid air off the farmhouse, ribbons of mud and the vein of a pulsing brook scattered geese and a shaggy black crow. All this is the spring opening her hills and mending cold ground with warm patches of sunlight. the farmers face is lifted to the warm wind and he cracks a smile, the thrill returns once again, the small boy at his side copies him and mirrors the same smile. their wagon slowly fills with sap buckets and creaks across the long path over a single crocus in bloom. 'Spring at Last' he whispers.