Crepuscular migrations

I await, for their return. Hopeful, with anticipation. I pause, listening intently, in the in-between hours, knowing that, any dusk, or any dawn now, might be the one, when I will hear the first Flute-like song of the thrush. The reclusive thrush who have come home to nest once more.

The Spring rains have arrived, the streams run through all the forest floors as the grounds, soaked through with water, are ready for the growing season, and the forest floor is soft with wet duff - all creating a perfect ecosystem for their return.

Other things that have emerged overnight too, showing the map home ~ the coltsfoot bright yellow flowers, the Red maple buds which are beginning to fall, young nettles emerging quietly from the thawed ground.
And from the animals ~ the mourning doves court in circles, bobbing after each other like the flirtatious spring warmth. The amphibians practice the music of their lifetime, with a deafening call and response. And me? I pause, always with an ear out, waiting for the unmistakable song. Practicing patience.

Today, while drinking my tea, sweetened with the last drops of honey made from last summer's coltsfoot, I had additional reasons for gratitude. The bright beautiful blooms of the colstfoot has indeed returned in abundance. Last year, I had cried in fear of loss, when the road crew dug deep, with the appearance of attempting to plow out these beautiful plants. I hoped they would be resilient and reappear. I wasn't sure... And indeed, like anything you try to ignore or suppress, the more you attempt to eradicate, rather than embrace, the more they will rear their heads triumphantly and multiply. This year, the soft plants line the sides of the of my road like trumpeters announcing their triumphant return. Welcome back!!

Now, all there is left to do is wait for the thrush. We still have a few more weeks of cold nights, which may keep them quiet. Yet, maybe tonight, just maybe, with gentle rain moving in, maybe soon, I will hear the gift of their song. The song of the gentle thrush

Wishing you gentleness as the Spring gifts nourish and emerge. Namaste

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