This morning on the drive to work, I saw my first groundhog of the season. (No, I'm not counting the tame one plucked from his stump in Punxatawney.) I was so excited - were it not for morning work time, I would have stopped to welcome the fellow back to sun-side.
At my 6am rising this morning, a robin was singing his little heart out, so loud and close. Other bird voices were in the chorus, although I don't know the composers by the tune.
The red maple buds are swelling.
We made slings recently at Primitive Pursuits. They're real slings (not to be confused with Y-stick slingshots), in the style that David would have used to slay Goliath. So I keep mine in my coat pocket, and toy with my techniques when I spot a tempting stone (or pinecone, or snowball, or hickory nut). There are moments I think I'm getting better, and I think if I had a Goliath-sized target within 12 feet, glued to the spot in fear, he might get a good dent somewhere on his body.