Alice E. Goudey ~ Adrienne Adams
Charles Scribner's Sons, 1964
Driving home from the gym this morning, I saw the first signs of spring. The darkness and chill of winter were beginning to wear on me, and, thankfully, the red buds have arrived, just in time. Soon, that other necessary sign of spring will be here. The butterflies.
One sunny day the first butterfly of spring fluttered down and lit upon a stump in our backyard. It was a dark-winged Mourning Cloak. It spread its wings as if to warm them in the sun. We saw the bright blue spots and yellow borders. It slowly raised its wings and brought them close together above its back. We tiptoed nearer, and the Mourning Cloak stayed quietly on the stump as if not fully wakened from its winter sleep. I picked it up and it lay upon my hand as light as thistledown.
Delicate words and pictures to usher us into the pastel months.
As a newbie Texan, I'll ignore the other signs of spring... the scorpion that bit my husband last night. The dead snake in my backyard, and its cousin who wiggled over my foot a few days later. Instead, I'll focus on the pinks and the blue and the green exploding everywhere. Using Adrienne's soft drawings as a guide for all that is good and born anew. 17 days, seven hours, forty minutes and 22 seconds to go. But who's counting?
The Day We Saw the Sun Come Up
Mr. Biddle and the Birds
A Woggle of Witches
The Wounded Duck
The Easter Egg Artists
Ponies of Mykillengi
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