Time now for David and I head out of doors and enjoy the rest of this warm spring day.
As a post script to the day ~ the meadowlark stayed all day.
Think, every morning when the sun peeps through The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, How jubilant the happy birds renew Their old, melodious madrigals of love! And when you think of this, remember too 'T is always morning somewhere, and above The awakening continent; from shore to shore, Somewhere the birds are singing evermore. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Tales of a Wayside Inn