They have been molding wax warmed beneath a springtime fireside of the late. Our hands never seem to do the trick. But, toasty tiles beneath the wood stove? Perfect. American kestrals and robins portrayed in bee scented taffy, one after another lined up like sparrows on a telephone line. Mugs of milk and honey filled to the brim warm their bellies to chase away the chill from the hunt for a vernal pond, from romping through the muddy wet, greening pastures, from dipping our fingers in brooks scooping up frogs and spotted salamanders. And of course to appease the three-year old among us who fell off his “castle” and is coated in mud. Sweet treats do help that too.
Spring is by far the most exciting time to be alive in Vermont. The inside all day, outside all day, switch off is so very satisfying. No one ever tires of a thing, for before they have the chance, the sun will come out, or a dark cloud will settle and change everything.
One thought on “the springtime fireside”
True, so true, and it’s delightful.