One of the beauties of living in the South is the advent of Spring. Remember the beginning of Last of the Mohicans (Daniel Day Lewis version) where they’re running through the trees? Everyone else was engrossed in the action. I, instead, was breathlessly taken by the beauty of the forest. "Where is this land?" I asked. Well, that was North Carolina. Precisely where I sit now.
We’ve got a large stand of trees behind our place. As an ex-long-time Los Angeleno, I wasn’t that thrilled when it got cold here, nor when the autumn leaves dropped off the trees. Then, two weeks ago, buds appeared on the trees … and two weeks later, the trees are in full leaf.
One day, as I sat and admired all the greenery surrounding us, what looked like dozens of green … moths? … flew out from a tree. As the numbers escalated, and they approached me, I spied what they really were — seeds from the trees, each with its own little "wing" that caused it to ride the mild wind, whirling like helicopters.
These fell at my feet. These could be trees.
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