The warm breezes are laden with exotic and erotic fragrance of honeysuckle and wild rose. It perfumes the mornings filled with bird song, the sunlit afternoons and mingles with the scent of new mown hay in the evenings.
Our valley has been transformed from brown and bare to the glorious greens of spring and summer. Already the fireflies are lighting up the nights in the pasture and the hayfield. They perform a graceful waltz of light in the heavy darkness,beneath a sky filled with stars.
The mornings begin with the aromas of freshly brewed coffee, homemade bread and hickory smoked bacon. I watch as the sky turns from deep violet to brilliant pinks and reds. The sun finally peeks over the hill and glows briefly on the rapidly dissipating mist over the hayfield.
In the heat and haze of summer afternoons, the buzz of the cicadas in the oppressive air, are sometimes interrupted by the roll of distant thunder. The air is still, leaves wilt in the afternoon heat and the birds send out only half hearted song. Crickets hide in the shade of the pumpkin leaves, creaking out their symphonies.
I am looking forward to summer, as I do to the beginning of every changing season. In the few truly warm days we have had so far I am already sporting a tan from mowing.