April showers do their silent work, and presently the stage is set for an upheaval of verdant life that changes our dull round of hibernating existence into an enchanted adventure overnight. Miracles surround us, and we walk at least half on air as we tread the magic carpet of tender green that suddenly unrolls beneath our feet. The green spreads, climbs, riots everywhere. Buds peep out. The whole drab land is busily engaged in weaving the graceful tapestry of leafy bloom that is to festoon it in beauty for the new day.
Overhead the clouds are ivory billows that twist lazily in the soft whisper of wind from the south. And if we doubt the miracle, there are minstrels to announce it with a world of cheery insistence, and this they do with many a chirp and twitter from every bush and bough. We must believe it. The world is young again.
