Sorry for the lack of posts recently.  We just found out that our youngest son Noah (3 years old) has cancer.  We’ve had a bunch of testing done and are awaiting a specific diagnosis.

It has been warmer and sunnier here in Indianapolis this week, and this weather reminded me of this poem:

FIRST SIGHT OF SPRING.
John Clare.
1793-1864.

The hazel-blooms, in threads of crimson hue,
Peep through the swelling buds, foretelling Spring,
Ere yet a white-thorn leaf appears in view,
Or March finds throstles pleased enough to sing.
To the old touchwood tree woodpeckers cling
A moment, and their harsh-toned notes renew ;
In happier mood, the stockdove claps his wing;
The squirrel sputters up the powdered oak,
With tail cocked o’er his head, and ears erect,
Startled to hear the woodman’s understroke;
And with the courage which his fears collect,
He hisses fierce half malice, and half glee —
Leaping from branch to branch about the tree,
In winter’s foliage, moss and lichens, drest.