Spring woods

I went walking yesterday at old Wapehani. The redbuds were out in force. It was a bittersweet day, as it always is to go walk among the ghosts of my boyhood. But spring returns as always, as the Beowulf poet points out:

. . . oþðæt oþer com
gear in geardas, swa nu gyt doð
þa ðe syngales sele bewitiað,
wuldortorhtan weder.

. . . until another year came to the homes of men, even as still they do, weathers glorious and bright that in endless succession observe the seasons.

Redbuds and Pines

Click on pic to enlarge.

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Spring woods

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