April is the time of year when I begin to clip and clean the streets and alleyways of our humble village in the woods and make sure everything is open and ready for business. I've been moving yard pieces and clay pots around, then moving them back again to find just the right place; and I've taken to leaving the back door open again, in spite of the snakes and ocasional birds. . . all so that summer can pack its bags and come on over. I put up two windchimes, a bird feeder, two folkart chickens, cleaned out the potting shed of its nest and chipmonk droppings, and hung up a "Fresh Eggs" sign.
It's not quite as impressive as the mystery man's village, but I'm not complaining. I'm the mayor, the director, the city council, and the Queen Bee. The Head Rabbit runs the show.
Tucker the Dog, of course, believes it's all real, and that's quite enough for me.