Sounds that stir the weariest of souls: helplessly giggling children, bees going deliriously about their business within a blossom's bosom, and the raucous improvisation of bird call. Rapturous rhapsodies.
My fair weather friends have returned. Friday the meadows and trees around the farmhouse were suddenly full of the unmistakeable and so very welcome sound of red-wing blackbirds. Mourning doves and robins arrived as well.
Morning has broken.