We’re in a holding pattern here in the upper midwestern U.S., waiting for spring to burst upon us.  Buds are swollen on the tips of branches, needing that extra bit of rain and warm weather to make them swell and open.  The sap is running, judging from the gallons of flow I see in the buckets hanging on maple trees up the street.  Cardinals and chickadees sing lustily every morning, and a few of the Woodpeckers are drumming on anything that resonates.  I’ve even seen Mr. Tom Turkey strutting his finest feather display in the backyard.  Robins and Juncos frequent the birdbath, which I can now safely fill with fresh water since nights are generally above freezing.

But the color of the landscape remains stubbornly brown, gray, and tan.  Everything is just waiting…

Mirror reflection on a pond

The lakes and ponds are finally ice free, and still water makes wonderful mirrors.

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