There are bluebirds in the backyard, darting down to scratch the damp earth where I have been raking. I pulled the spiles from the maple today and the afternoon sun made the dry holes weep anew. Last night, the first official Berkshire peepers of spring where heard and confirmed in Ashley Falls, Massachusetts and late this afternoon I grilled two pork tenderloins and watched my children run without coats through the ground is still frozen. The shoots of ramps and trillium push through the earth where last week there still was snow. Each day an old acquaintance renewed and new wonders turning toward the sun.