I received a letter in the mail. It was from a friend who is presently living in Florida. She’s one of the migrators, doesn’t like winter but her heart will always be in Vermont. I’ve been telling her about our unseasonably warm winter. She’ll be back by the beginning of April. Just like the geese and the robins, she will come home again…Read more.

A quick poem to welcome the new season.

Flee, moving on, unknown, doubt.

More than 30 million Europeans migrated to the Americas in three-quarters of a century before the First
World War II and about two-thirds settled there permanently.

Time can fly so fast as we get older, we learn so soon not to tarry in life. Perhaps that is why we might envy the time of youth and wonder why it is wasted on the young. Not to begrudge them of it, but I think because time slips by so quickly as we get older, that we want to squeeze so much in that we want that youthful energy in order to accomplish all that we want to do.

Hummingbird’s amazing size, flaps of wings, and ability to migrate.

Just something I came up with while watching the birds in the garden.

Verses in rhyme.

Migration.

Migration can also be unsafe.