Later, when I was in the Argentine, I used to tell myself that I could not die until I had seen another month of May, here in the mountains. The grass grows knee-high in the meadows and down the centre of the roads between the wheel ruts. If you are with a friend, you walk down the road with the grass between you. In the forest the late beech leaves come out, the greenest leaves in the world. The cows are let out of the stable for the first time. They leap, kick with their hind legs, turn in circles, jump like goats. The month itself is like a homecoming.

• John Berger, from “Pig Earth” in (Bloomsbury Pub Ltd, January 31, 1999)

Notes:

• Photos: Green @ Daybreak.  5:15 to 5:35 am, May 18, 2022. 53° F. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.  See more pictures from my walk here.   
• Quote: Thank you Whiskey River