They are loden, lined bibs, given to me many Christmases ago from someone who loved me. They are stiff and not much to look at, but we all know appearances can deceive us. Like a trusty old friend, they embrace me as the last leaf flickers off the branch against a gray November sky. They shield me from cold, damp winds on a frosty morning when the first…
This morning on my walk up to the pasture, I heard Spring. Birds… When I walked by the woods, I noticed the blue tubing was up — the sap lines were ready to receive and transport the sap run. In the air, a hint: The very faint smell of earth, gently nudged at my nose on its way by. It gave me an extra spring in my step…