The young crescent moon is a perfect smile tonight, as though anticipating with pleasure the arrival of spring. Buds are appearing on the mulberry tree, and leaves will soon follow. Pine and laurel scent the mild air, and the grass is soft underfoot when I walk out to watch the stars grow bright. Alas that the frogs, though abundant (as revealed by the volume of their music) have proven insufficient to one of their tasks, which has led to the one flaw that mars this splendid evening. I have gotten my first mosquito bites of the season. In fact I have no fewer than five bites, three on the left side of my face and two on my right wrist. Night's allure is such that I am bound to suffer additional bites, for who could stay indoors when spring has come early?