I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such a dramatic springtime as here in Wisconsin, the sort of place where winter covers everything with snow, and the plants have to do their thing fast once the warm winds begin to blow.

These small flowering trees seem to have calculated how many buds and flower petals can possibly be squeezed out of their sap — then they produce a few hundred more for good measure.

A day or two later, the leaves are pushing the blossoms aside, saying, “Our turn! Gotta hurry!”

DECIDUOUS SPRING

Now, now the world
All gabbles joy like geese, for
An idiot glory the sky
bangs. Look!
All leaves are new, are
Now, are
Bangles dangling and
Spangling, in sudden air
Wangling, then
Hanging quiet, bright.

The world comes back, and again
Is gabbling, and yes,
Remarkably worse, for
The world is a whirl of
Green mirrors gone wild with
Deceit, and the world
Whirls green on a string, then
The leaves go quiet, wink
From their own shade, secretly.

Keep still, just a moment, leaves.

There is something I am trying to remember.

~ Robert Penn Warren

Each morning the goslings by the lake appear to have doubled in size. Clouds race across the deep blue sky, darken and thicken, and pour down rain. The anemone buds droop, the sun blazes out, and the white flowers open gladly to take in the rays.

Pearl and I took the dogs to the dog park where they had a fine romp, and I admired more trees and flowers.

Earlier this week we drove to Sheboygan for dinner, and all along the road I got to see lots of handsome farms with beautiful silos, surrounded by bright green fields. On the way home I was quite taken with some stripey clouds.

Everyone and everything is gabbling joy.