And the peonies are shooting up in crimson glory.
All of these things make me happy, but what I notice most this time of year is the birds.
My bluebird comes by each day, delighting me with his brilliant color and his voice.
When I wake up in the morning, I take time to just listen for a while. In the winter it is rare to hear birds call, except for the ever perky chickadees, who deedle around no matter the weather. But now that breeding season is here the air reverberates with songs of a dozen species. It is the gladdest sound.