Just got back from an evening sail.  No, there was not really any wind, but it didn't matter, really.  The boat drifted around in near calm, very quiet - sort of a lake of solitude in the middle of a busy world.  For some reason it reminded me of racing in light air in the Chesapeake bay, when there would be a light fog, and foghorns in the distance, playing their random pattern.

May has passed - almost on the first day the leaves came out, replacing the flowers on many trees.  Flower petals from the cherry trees on the ground, dogwood trees blossoming at the bottom of the street.  The leaves come out, the world turns lush.  Birds singing everywhere, calling to stake their claims to their new habitats.  Several times I have seen a baby fox on our street, usually in my headlights at night.

Middle May, the locust trees, which have still even begun the thoughts of leaves, break into spectacular blossom in an otherwise green world.  This lasts one week, and then they too are replaced by new, light green leaves.  The maple trees have already formed their helicopter seeds, and the dandelions have already spread theirs.  By the end of May, all the infrastructure is in place - the plants are ready for the serious stuff of life - growing taller, and yes, starting to store food for the winter, still long to come.