Southland in the Springtime

 I remember as well as if it was yesterday listening to The Indigo Girls on the way to high school in the mornings.  My older sister loooooooooooooooved them.  LOVED.  So, naturally, I did too.  I can recall every word from their early albums.  They are brilliant lyricists.  They are beautiful poets.  They interweave history, legend, folklore, mythology, fiction.  And then there are the melodies.  Dig out your old Nomads, Saints, & Indians album and listen to Southland in the Sprintime.  If that doesn't make your heart soften toward this old place we call home, nothing will.

So I was in the yard today enjoying a spring day with my three chickens, listening to the roar of the lawn mower as Hubs' logged row after row in the yard.  I caught myself singing Southland in the Springtime.  And then I ran in, grabbed my camera, and realized that quite literally, every day should be springtime in my world.  Look at this amazing, beautiful life.  She IS spring....and she is mine.  

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.