Spring; in tiny delicate hints whispering behind piles of leaves and twigs
Abandoned bunkers and rusted street lights line an old gravel road off of Lake 33. The whole area is dotted with little lakes and ponds and trails. The skies are warm and turquoise blue. It feels like early summer, but still looks at first glance like deep in the fall.
Knee high, half -hidden spring is slipping through the brush, ready to burst into bloom.
Rambling ... 