Spring is musical here

[T]he sun sinks in a blue sky.

The way the pale, orange glow it’s kind enough to leave in its wake shines through the trees reminds me of the last embers of a campfire on a creek bank.

It’s the last light of a long day in South Alabama, and I’m on the front porch to watch it fade into darkness.

I’m not alone.

The porch is no shelter from the mosquitoes, and the drone of their wings sounds like it carries a threat to eat me alive.

A hummingbird hovers overhead and waits for the perfect time to take a last swig from a feeder.

Its small squeaks combined with the beat of its wings are a nice soundtrack to the night. 

Spring is musical here, if you take the time to listen. 

All kinds of bugs, crickets and other fish bait join the chorus. 

The next-door neighbors’ dog chimes in with a long howl.

The old chair I sit in creaks while I try to rock and type. 

It’s dark now, but every new day brings a new song. 

If you wake up early enough to catch the sun’s first rays, you can hear the birds strike up the band.

One of those birds has built a home in the old birdhouse under the carport, and she makes a pretty good racket when somebody gets too close to her babies.

When the birds sing, everything else seems to wake up.

The bees will buzz around my head, but — unlike the mosquitoes — they’ll pretty much leave me alone.

Sometimes, the neighbors’ horses whinny while they roll in the dirt, which is a sight to see.

There are plenty of sights to see in the spring, if you take the time to look.

Most folks know about green grass and leaves on all of the trees, but few stop long enough to watch the azaleas explode in bursts of pink and purple or the kudzu drape itself down a hillside.

Squirrels stand still just long enough to eat before they’re gone again in search of another meal.

Rabbits roam free, and sometimes they let you get pretty close before they hop on into the woods.

They never seem worried they might be one day be carried off by the pack of coyotes known to tear through the backyard on nights like this, but I’m sure it never really leaves their minds.

Winter’s just about left Alabama, I think.

The temperature’s cooler once darkness falls, but it tends to start to heat up when the days get longer.

It’s pretty well suited for Easter egg hunts and sprints through the sprinklers.

Spring’s good for the new garden my sister planted at her house.

The crops sprouted fast.

Her kids watch them grow and their MawMaw takes a lot of pictures, because the babies grow fast, too.

Spring will stay for a while, and then leave in a blink.

I’ll enjoy its sights and its songs as long as they last, but right now sounds like a good time to go inside before these mosquitoes make good on their threat.