As I Walk In Spring

As I Walk in Spring

In Spring the first hints of verdant growth peek out from the underbrush.  Sheltered areas become microcosms of Spring [alushness, as green tendrils reach out from the center pushing to the periphery.  Baby rabbits and squirrels stop to delight in its freshness.  Woody scents waft through the vale from the decaying remains of a downed tree so recently obscured by the last winter storm.  The breeze carries hints of warmth yet there remains a briskness that belies the season.

Overhead numerous birds call and new sounds awaken in the warmer light.  Flashes of color appear and just as quickly disappear as the owner darts across the path.  He takes up another perch to begin his call again.  Among their number, a goldfinch, a wren, robins, blackbirds, chickadees, flickers and woodpeckers.  They have been absent for months and don’t reveal where they have been.  They seem happy to be back and busy with their tasks carrying bits of grass or twigs for their new nests.  Beyond the path lazily drifting above the hazy green trees the red-tail hawk drifts and spirals wherever the wind carries her, an eye ever watchful for prey.  She dips as a sparrow taunts her “Catch me if you can!”


One day just a hint of green decorates the barren branches the next and explosion of green leaves hides the sky from beneath the aging cottonwoods.  The tiny buds progress ceaselessly to miniature leaves.  A multitude of shades of green become evident.  The oaks have a rich emerald hue while the maples are light and airy.  Even the evergreens take on a brighter shade of green, and shake off their winter frost as if new life has been breathed into them.   Here and there the limbs, severed by winter gales litter the earth.  Their browns and tans contrast with the flourishing canopy.  Flashes of sunlight now glazed with an emerald glow light up the path beneath my feet and I know it is spring.

Light spring rain is a welcome occasion.  Spring showers wash clean the air and carry away the winter dust sluicing toward the creek, whose waters will one day journey toward the sea.  The wildlife scurries to find dry spots to wait out the chilling mist as new leaves stretch out for a drink of the life-giving liquid.

Oblivious to the weather, I peer around for a dry spot to wait.  The sweet aroma of plum bushes is enhanced by a fresh breeze.  Muddy pools form as I search for a way to go.  As I smile prepared to move, the flash of lightning and crack of thunder lead me to a different conclusion.  The path and all its wonders will wait until another day.

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About smcpherson58

Aside from loving chocolate and coffee (not necessarily in that order) Scott McPherson has learned that he loves to write. He writes fiction and, so far, has published two novels. Scott has many varied interests, though he tries to focus on one at a time. He has worked for nearly thirty-five years as a family physician, a pass-time that gives him great pleasure and pays the bills. He has five daughters and dotes upon three grandchildren. Recently married, he really loves life. Scott writes from his life experiences and from travel. His career in the active Air Force was brief, but he has been a member of the Nebraska Air National Guard since just before 9/11 in 2001. The aftermath of that great disaster changed the face of the Guard and led to missions in far-away lands. He has spent time in Turkey, Iraq, Spain, Crete and Guam in missions related to support for Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom. He has been to Iceland and Antarctica as well. Scott has no personal experience with violent death or murder, but has gained knowledge from experts. In his first novel, “A Step Ahead of Death,” his character, Jack Sharp MD, becomes embroiled in a murder mystery. First as suspect, then as amateur sleuth, Jack tries to make a difference. He finds himself right in the middle of an investigation well beyond the scope of a local murder. A man of faith, Scott traveled to Africa with his small family in the 1980s and served as a medical missionary in Zaire (known as Congo today) with a church organization. The vast difference in what it takes to exist in such an environment served as a basis for much of his second novel, a thriller, “Congo Mission.” His character, Jack, is twenty years younger than in the first novel. In “Congo Mission” Jack serves as a physician in a missionary hospital in the jungles of northwestern Zaire. There he is not only captivated by a young woman visiting the region, but falls victim to his nemesis Jacques Levant. His motivations and faith are tested and his resolve to do God’s work gets pushed to the limit. When he is not writing Scott enjoys walking, a practice that actually led to his first attempt at writing a novel. He began making notes and writing prose about the mundane things around him. He tried to make the details sound interesting, even though it was just for his own pleasure. Eventually he found that he could expand his prose to “what if?” “What if I just kept walking?” “What if I, or my character, found a dead body in the ditch along the side of the path?” That was the premise for the first novel, “A Step Ahead of Death.” Scott McPherson is an avid trombone player and has played since he was nine years old. He marched in the Cornhusker Marching Band at the University of Nebraska and now takes advantage of one free football game a year by playing in the half-time show with the UNL Alumni Marching Band. He plays in the Lincoln Civic Orchestra and a community band from the nearby town of Waverly, Nebraska. Scott loves to sing as well, though his range seems to have diminished in recent years. He has sung in college and church choirs and remembers performing parts of Handel’s Messiah as a highlight of his singing experience. One little-known fact about Scott is that he once sang soprano in a boys choir. Scott plans to keep writing as long as the ideas flow and others show interest in his stories. He loves to interact with other writers or readers about what has become a passion in his life. Reviews are always welcome as are questions and comments.
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