“Winter will pass, the days will lengthen, the ice will melt in the pasture pond. The song sparrow will return and sing, the frogs will awake, the warm wind will blow again. All these sights and sounds and smells will be yours to enjoy, Wilbur—this lovely world, these precious days…” E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web
Birds of a feather flock to my feeder, scattering seeds and sending delight.
I’m just a gal, with a pen, asking you to like this. 🤪
Home-Thoughts, from Abroad Oh, to be in EnglandNow that April’s there,And whoever wakes in EnglandSees, some morning, unaware,That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheafRound the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,While the chaffinch sings on the orchard boughIn England—now! And after April, when May follows,And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!Hark, where my …