There was a song I used to sing to my children when they were growing up. I'm not sure if it had a title, but it was such a sweet little tune...

Wake up, wake up, hear the robins singing...

Singing, bringing messages of Spring.

So get up, get up, sleepy head..

Don't you know it's Spring-Time!

Pussy-Willows in the meadow swaying...

Birds in tree-tops seem to be a-saying,

"Oh, get up, get up, sleepy head;

Don't you know it's Spring-Time!"

This morning, my faithful bird friends sang outside my window for the longest time.

Each Spring, this song comes to mind, as these little feathered friends begin their singing.

This year, I came across a website offering fresh pussy willow branches.

Arranged in an urn with moss, this wonderful harbinger of Spring lifts my winter-weary spirit each time I pass.

I sent a batch to my sister-in-law, whose birthday is around the corner, and she has placed the branches in vases of water, in hopes they will take root.

If successful, she has promised to share.... much to my delight!

It will be planted down by our pond, alongside the great weeping willow,

referred to by Xavier as the "marshmallow tree."

Only from the perspective of a toddler, was I able to see the fresh, green buds of the season, as marshmallows.

And we couldn't just walk up to the tree, we had to run into the midst of the long, flowing branches; twirling, with our arms stretched out.

I am thankful for this little boy's unending supply of energy and am fascinated by his imagination, curiosity, ability to remember, and love of life.

This morning, as my husband was leaving for work, he observed that everything had turned green, seemingly over night... and he mentioned the willow tree. I responded, "You mean, the "marshmallow tree?"