I'm not normally susceptible to Spring fever.  This year, however, I have all the symptoms--restlessness, inability to concentrate, daydreaming;  the smell of fresh-mown grass makes me downright frisky. 

Maybe I've just achieved enough awareness to actually notice Spring for the first time in years. 

With the wild mustard and the daffodils, and the accacias, the whole area has exploded in yellow.

Most of my wanderings are late in the day.

I find salvation in the solitude of Salt Slough...

                                                                     And the mud flats.

Even mud can be beautiful.

So here's to Spring.  May each of you soon find the warmth of new beginnings, beauty in the mundane, and peace in all seasons.

All my love,

Bupu