At Lake Cheston, I stretched my legs, listened to American toads sing, watched a large snapping turtle settle himself atop a lily vine, looked up at maple flowers bursting everywhere, reddening tree limbs with little bows of life. I came to the beach, and there it was: the first dragonfly of the season -- a Common Green Darner, weaving in and out of the plants and last year's cattails, zooming up and back down with the energy of the season, the turquoise flash of its abdomen like neon in sunlight.
II.
A single spot of blue in Abbo's Alley, so blue, so deep and varied and startlingly rich that even at that moment, with clouds rolling in again, the sky still seemed blue itself in reflection. Trink's cow statue and I both know: this is a sacred season.
III.
I'm singing spring's blues!
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