15 March 2008

Slowly

I rode up to McCormick Place Bird Sanctuary this evening. Spring is happening here; you just have to be patient.


At first glance everything seems dull and lifeless, brown and dead. Thoroughly depressing. But you wait a little more. You notice that the earth under your feet is soft and damp. You look down and are surprised to see little greeny bits of moss here and there peeping up at you. You look up at the tree branches; do they seem bumpier than usual? Closer inspection reveals that they are covered with sleek, dark buds, each one a promise of a new leaf, a future flower. And then, oh then, you realize that you are surrounded by the sweet, chortling cries of red-winged blackbirds. Yes, there is life here after all.

Spring comes. Slowly.


I'm afraid this tree might be dead, though. It looks like some kind of evergreen that didn't make it this winter.
...
I also checked out that Lakefront Path detour I panicked about the other day; more on that later.

"Come back!" he cried, chasing his bike. "Don't leave me!"

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