Gray is the color for today.  There is a light fog peering out of the forest, in the distance, beyond the blotches of March’s crumby brown snow.  The bare earth shows through, here and there, and a variety of birds are restless in the trees, chirping and tweeting their morning song. They have drowned out, the single sweet notes, the rhythmic tones of yesterdays.  It seems they need more practice, before the performance.  The woodpecker is silent this morn.  The rains should come today. GRB