Almost overnight, my yard has burst into a chasm of greens.
My moonflower vine has begun it's steady
climb up the rusted gate, and the ligustrum bushes will shortly erupt into masses of white flowers that will draw every winged creature for miles around.
The trumpet vine threatens to overtake the roof. That too will soon produce it's musical red blossoms, luring ants, leaf footed bugs and hummingbirds.
Besides the dizzying assault on my vision, it's the smell of green that gives me that heady feeling. I wish it could be bottled. I'd wear it on every part of my body.
Breath deeply the last few weeks of spring. Summer is nipping its heels, waiting to take over.