The First Nights of Spring

The wet grass tickles my bare feet
As the nostalgic sun unwillingly disappears behind the hills
And casts long shadows on my face.
Gradually, the sapphire sky fades into an inky purple.
The first stars wink at me from their beds in the growing dusk.
Twilight paints the valley
As frogs croak and crickets whistle.
The trees light up
As lighting bugs dance and twinkle.
A breeze sails around the trees,
Rustling their new green leaves.
I breathe in the faint scent of lilacs and rain
And thank God for spring.