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8 May 2010 | Category: Stories | Author: Clare

Spring is no longer a whipser in the tree tops, or a promise on the wings of migrating birds.

It is here; and with it have arrived the birds, the animals, the life in the trees. Everything is alive with activity and excitement. The birds wake every day and sit in the branches around the cabin, extolling the virtues of the early morning; the animals stretch their muscles and twitch their ears in mock excitement at each new day; and the trees are finally showing weary signs of shrugging off the sleep of winter and throwing some energy into their green canopies.

Like old women on street corners opening up their arms to display beautiful bouquets for sale, it is these aged giants that really make you embrace each morning with renewed vigour.

For surely the trees don't lie? We can at last pack away the accoutrements of winter, dust off our outdoor furniture, and dig out the barbecue, all forgotten months ago in a swirl of snow and cold weather.

Elk on the river, moose at the cabin, butterflies in the breeze. Bears in the trees, coyotes in the distance and huge eagles on the wind.

The animals we see out here, and the ones we don't that leave their mark on the road, make life more interesting. The paw in the mud, the rustle in the bushes; the echo of what was there only moments before.

The mountains that are at once both their home and their guardian, stand back at this time of year. No longer ominous perveyors of bad weather and misfortune, they are quiet custodians. Transformed at least for now to a silent backdrop, letting those that made it through the winter enjoy the spoils of their success.

Breagha for one has a spring back in her step.

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