The sights I saw at the start of my journey were far lovelier than anything I encountered thereafter, though I did see a barn with no remaining walls, only its ruined skeleton, silhouetted in the grey afternoon light, and I did see that even our Ohio trees are fringing with red as it warms, and I did see a strange, light mist--a kind of half-fog--gathering in the bottoms of fields as I neared home. But before I left the land of early spring, I saw:

(the same blooms I showed you as blazing-in-sun buds on Tuesday)

and (to rectify the crocuslessness of Tuesday's post):