May's forests

It's May, and suddenly the trees have all leafed out.

Looking west, downslope behind the house.

It's shocking, really, to see the horizon close up in a few days.  Half a year we've enjoyed open views of the ridges and slopes, barely graces by the thin boles of maple and birch.  The canopy was notional, easily overcrowded by skies.

But it's May, and spring has done its rapid work.  The air is rich, luxuriant - not hot, or humid.  Breezes feel like delayed guests, stronger for having labored through arboreal mazes.

Now we drop to our knees to build up compost.  Weeds need pulling, grass cutting, and overhead branches cut back: a bonus of verdure, continuous green heaps for the three compost stacks.