In my woods walk this afternoon I think I found, in an old mill pond, some frogs' eggs, which will most likely be eaten by ducks but nonetheless, it made me profoundly happy. I used to gather a slithery coffee-can-full of them every spring as a child, and would hatch them in large jars on my bedroom windowsill. I fed them boiled romaine lettuce. (Don't know where I got this information, but they ate it and thrived.) When they grew legs and their translucent fins faded, I built them a home in an old wheelbarrow: mosses and rocks and mud and water. And when they became springy enough, they leapt free and inhabited the woods, their songs entuning the dusk.
I also saw, today, an impossibly tiny rabbit, palm-of-my-hand size.
The woods are glowing with a nearly-neon chartreuse green. The thimbleberries are in bloom,
as are the trilliums --
and the brazen skunk cabbages: