Every year, around this time, Godzilla returns home from wherever he winters. It’s a momentous occasion. His arrival heralds the beginning of Spring. Forget the vernal equinox, forget daylights saving. When I see Godzilla perched in his terra cotta bowl, spewing water, then and only then is it Spring. Today is the day, and all I can say, is welcome home, Godzilla! Welcome home.

Godzilla lives down the street from me, on a route that leads directly into the ravine. I don’t know his people, just the reptile and his water fountain, so I hope they don’t mind that I took this picture. I’m just glad I brought my camera today. I don’t always, and it’s usually on those days that I see the pileated woodpeckers, and last year, the moose.

In late Autumn, just before the snow flies, the varying shades of brown, black and gold in the landscape are like a Wyeth canvas. In Spring, it’s just brown. Everywhere. It seems artless and dead, and yet, to quote a friend, there is a ‘softening in the buds.’

The ice is breaking up on the North Saskatchewan, and butterflies are flying around my head, casting shadows ahead of me.

And now, Godzilla. It was a great walk today. A Spring walk.

3:10 PM/13C