I always wait eagerly for spring to come to Illinois and inevitably by the time it finally arrives, I've almost given up on it and miss it somehow as it sneaks in behind me. The poets, if they exist anymore, could wax eloquent for hours about the sudden furious rain storms and the fresh, cool spring mornings and the smell of good, tilled earth waiting for seeds, but I'm always most impressed by the masses and miles of green. God must have invented a special shade of green for Illinois; I never seem to see it in pictures of other places. Of course, I can never seem to capture it in photos myself, so maybe it exists everywhere and is merely more elusive than other shades. It's a bright stained glass green caught between the leading of wood-grey tree trunks that makes me want to disappear into the woods and get lost and leaves me to wonder why anyone would choose to live in a city. I'm predjudiced; I'm a country girl. Something inside me starves for want of trees. Whether city or country, have a blessed spring, full of yarn and miracles and keep your eyes open for green.
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