It is a wonderful time of year.  The morning air, damp and thick, is heavily scented with sweet fragrance of lilac and honeysuckle blossoms and the punky aroma of freshly turned earth.  My bedroom window opens to my back yard and the garden that waits to be planted.  Wildflowers abound in the unkempt lawn and keep company with the perrenials in the shade garden beneath the tall spruces.  We’ve been picking and eating the dandelions.

  A raucous crow is rudely calling out to his criminal friends and the mourning doves are cooing. My hammock, newly pressed into service  sits under the apple tree near a swarm of lillies.  In the fall, the netting of the hammock will fill with falling apples and I will once again consider an alternate location… The table and chairs have been taken out of winter storage and are ready for the first outdoor outing of the summer.  Summer in New Hampshire is a short but very sweet time of the year.  The stubborn snows still clinging to the Presidentials are a reminder that, here, winter is never far behind or far ahead. 

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