Our neighborhood St. Patrick’s Day dinner was cancelled. We’d only been homebound a few days, but that was enough to remind me that I must get outside and get moving if I am to maintain anything close to a sunny disposition. So I headed out for a park with paved trails to avoid the mud. But I drove slowly on the way, keeping my eye open for anything that might enchant me. Just a day before, two swans had trumpeted as they flew right over me – surely an invitation to follow them!

A dot of white at the edge of a pond far across a field of corn stubble caught my eye and insisted I pull over. I hoped whoever owned the field wouldn’t mind as I trekked through the mud I’d thought to avoid. (Footnote- we are now friends!)  

The pictures I got were well worth the muddy boots. The swan was so busy preening and shaking her feathers that she didn’t seem to notice me.

She put on such a show that I almost missed a loving moment between geese a few yards from her. I’m always thrilled to capture one of those!

When I arrived at the park, Oh, my goodness! Swans! There must have been fifty. A resting spot on their migration. What a sight.

Lots of chatting with geese and ducks. What stories were told?

Above them, an eagle circled over her nest high in a tree. As Mom used to say, early spring may be gray, but you can see so much more before the leaves come out.

I sat on a tree over open water – a perfect place to reflect. Summer really is coming!

When the clouds thickened over the setting sun and the wind picked up, I started back toward the parking lot, but was stopped by a feather. Was it from a swan, or Mom?

Back in my car, classical music poured out to lift my spirits even higher as I came upon pastoral scenes.

Fuzzy friends nibbled on the first spring greens.

Elderly maples donated their sweet sap.

Sleepy fields lay ready to spring to life.

I felt . . . exhilaration. I really hadn’t felt deprived of anything at home, but there was so much more out here – open space, crisp air, critters, and freedom. Places to stretch my legs, eyes, and mind.

We can close our eyes and hang our heads. Or . . .

We can preen some of those corners we’ve been meaning to get to, and . . .

find new ways and places to spread our wings.