On the theme of beginnings...

It's a lovely spring day today...one of those days when the sky is a brilliant azure, framing in vibrant contrast the delicate new green of the budding trees. It's cool out this morning -- the sun is warm, but there is just enough of a nip in the breeze to remind you to wear your jacket. In a few hours the nip will be gone, but the breeze will stay mild and invite you to open every window in the house. It's the kind of day when you'd love to pack a little picnic in your saddlebags, take a peaceful ride out to a lake, and just sit a while. The kind of day when you want to just be.

The daffodils are almost gone, but the jasmine and honey locusts and Bradford pears are blossoming. Some fortunate soul down the road has tulips, and another has some delightful crocuses. Within a few weeks our irises and freesia should bloom, and the plum tree looks ready to flower. It's one of my favorite times of year. Why does it always seem, though, that no sooner has a new season really begun when I start anticipating one or two seasons ahead? It's usually two -- and now, I guess because Spring hasn't really begun yet, I'm looking forward to summer.

I never imagined Texas could be beautiful in the summer...I thought everything had to just wither and die in a sullen brown shroud. But the crepe myrtles and oleander and climbing roses are in full bloom, and the trees have that mature, dark-green hue -- gorgeous. Of course, my favorite of all is when the sky is slate grey but for a few breaks in the cloud, and the trunks of the trees look black against that vibrant green. And the air has that sultry, heavy feel -- you can almost feel it pulsing with the energy of the storm that's approaching. The cicadas are muted and there's absolutely no wind...until the front hits. There's nothing that can compare to a thunderstorm in a Texas summer.

Texas light show