A stony grey has been pulled over the land shoving spring back with cold clarity. It lies softly over the Tennessee offering its quiet to the harried soul. Days made for books, for writing, for laying with one’s lover sharing our warmth. A breeze from the north promises cold rain and one’s thoughts turn to our new bluebirds bundled in our box. It is barely a day, dawn just on, the sun also buried in the grey but its light brightens the cosmos of which rain clouds play no part. Nature has its ways, from new birds and buds to quasars and galaxies and stony grey days for humans to be beings.
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| We think there are 4 or 5 new bluebirds bundled up there in our box. |
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