I walked home today, an additional 4 miles. Many people crowded the sidewalks, enjoying a first real blast of spring. The sky stretched blue above our heads. Not so long ago it was dark by the time I left for home. Now the sun shines well into the evening. A blessing.

The tower rises up into the blue sky.

Glowing in the late afternoon sun.

This crypt, hidden in the trees, reminds of the gazebo I walk past in the morning. Can you see it?

All that is left of that great snow pile is bare ground.

I feel more confident about spring being here. This morning my walk was tinged with a touch of chill but my parka is now securely in the closet and for the first time, I left the calf warmers at home. Not put away, just at home.

Am I pushing my luck?

All along my route I saw signs of new life under the brown, decaying leaves. Hints of green press peered out. The trees so stiff and frozen in winter seem now to be throwing their branches open and reaching for the sun. The morning is not quite warm but the bite of the chill has left the air.

I believe it is finally really spring.

The garden looks ready for spring.

Even the cemetery looks cheerful in the sunlight.

That snow pile is going….

Emerging from the debris of dead leaves from last fall, new life.

A building within a building. Reflecting. Something we should all do more of.

Is it a mirror or two separate trees?

April arrives cold and clear. My walks are much easier after a series of warmer, rainy days. The sidewalks are clear of ice and snow but snow still clings to the ground in places, reluctant to leave. The melting has revealed a ground compressed with debris and withered grass. Yet the sun brings the promise of new life. After the long sleep of winter, the world is slow to awaken in these chilly days. But the sun is tapping our shoulder and soon it will bring the warmth we need to spring back to life.

Morning glow on the dome.

Without the frost the garden will soon start to thrive.

The snow is retreating, even in the cemetery.

The quartz snow sculpture continues to melt away. Now it sprouts a mushroom look.

A study of bench and shadow.

Snow retreats as the sunshine bursts forth.

The way down.

At the end of the day, I spotted these tiny sprouts. Signs of spring and new life.

Look! No snow!

A cold morning reminds me that the winter is still not over. The sun is strong but holds no warmth. Not yet.

Frost thwarts the garden’s awakening.

The way this snow pile is melting reminds me of a quartz crystal. It is slowly opening to reveal its secrets.

Sun burst over the bench!

On the way to see the giant’s fingers, still trapped by snow.