The Moon Said It

It was dark outside. The air was cool. The stars began to come out one by one. A Live Oak leaf fell from the branches above, spinning as it fluttered past my shoulder and onto the stone path beneath my feet.

I think this time spring has come.

I think it not because of the Plum tree blossoms by the lake, pink and red. There were, after all, Redbud blooms starting to come out when the ice descended from the north a week ago or so. No, I think spring has come because of the feeling in the air and because when I gazed down at the dark water in the rain barrel outside, I saw the thin crescent moon reflected there.

And the moon said that spring has come.

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