I can't believe I actually just said that. Seriously. I am the biggest protagonist when it comes to Spring. I believe all the old wives tails like "It must snow on the Robins five times" or the standby "If March comes in like a lamb, it must go out like a lion". But this year there is a glimmer of hope.
I say that because Tuesday I bundled up to go out and do chores and it was much warmer than it looked outside. It was one of those days when I did chores I felt much like a dog waking from a nap. You know what I mean, first it yawns, and then it does -The Shake- from the tip of it's nose all the way to the end of it's tail, releasing all of that tired chill out of it's body. Sorry, but that is the only way to explain it. I felt good, I felt like the season was changing finally, the air was almost, no, the air was warm.
Then yesterday morning I walked outside to do chores again and I heard it. I stopped dead in my tracks and scanned the skyline, and then the marsh just to the north of the house. I shushed Giggles and E-Man. I heard it again, and then I saw them. The Red Winged Black Birds ARE BACK. I turned instantly giddy. The shrill cry of the Red Winged Black Bird was proof positive Spring was here to stay. I have missed their calls, the acrobatic way they flit from one cattail to another singing their song of spring. But, way back in my mind I heard a small voice say "It's too early, don't get excited."
Last evening was the icing on the cake. We were coming in, from checking out the moon, when Clayton said "Dad, I Hear GEESE". Sure enough a few moments later there they were, in the standard V formation, gliding gently just overhead. "Can I Believe Now?" I asked the evil voice in my head. It didn't answer. I think I can, finally.
It's not to say Old Man Winter might not have something up his sleeve. It's not to say we can't still get some mighty cold temps this time of year. It is to say that the grip is finally breaking. It is to say there is a new season of hope around here. The hope of successful new births from rabbits. The hope of new baby chicks and ducklings growing stronger each day. The hope of rich soil exposing itself from the never ending blanket of snow. Hope. It is a mighty beautiful, and powerful thing.
The best part? I haven't even seen a Robin yet. God Bless.