a little Madness in the Spring

There are moments on each walk that catch me by surprise. It's usually the way the light makes a tiny something extraordinary.

Sometimes I can capture the moment. Other times I get back and review the pictures and wonder, what was it I was after here? Whatever it was, it's gone.



You can get a feel for the cloud smoke signals hanging low over the foothills, though.


I do remember what this moment was. There were dew drops hanging off each individual flower. It's a rare event since the atmosphere is so very dry. The snow and rain this week have made the ground shimmer in a way it typically can't. Most rains never even reach the ground here because the dry, high air absorbs it.


And these bushes are like watching popcorn pop, with each little yellow bud adding itself to the throng. It's just getting started, so stay tuned.

A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King,
But God be with the Clown –
Who ponders this tremendous scene –
This whole Experiment of Green –
As if it were his own

~Emily Dickinson

A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When Ma[y] is scarcely here

A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels.

It waits upon the Lawn,

It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.

Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay —

A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.

~Emily Dickinson