It’s 52 degrees this morning. It was just about the same last night. The morning’s heavy rains have only just drawn to a close, but they brought with them a hint of seasalt on the morning air.
As the season turns, I’m starting to feel myself drawn outside a little more and for a little longer each time. As the days lengthen and warm, I’m eager to get outside and do some work to tidy up the new garden, like pruning off last year’s foliage, which I left to help identify things during the move, and adding some fresh topsoil to dress things up. At the moment, I’m waiting for time off and weather to coordinate, but soon I’ll be out there no matter what.
Yesterday morning, for the first time, I spotted a dead tree at the perimeter of the back yard, which has several holes in it, a veritable bird condo.
As I wonder if anyone was already living in this large hollow, a cute little tufted titmouse was lurking around in the tree…either defending his home, or perhaps scoping out a new one.
The birds know that spring is coming, perhaps already here, despite the calendar saying its still a week or two off. They’ve been singing like crazy the past few weeks, even in heavy snow, their songs resound. Cardinals, woodpeckers, finches, chickadees, titmice.
We humans are now comfortable saying “it’ll be here before you know it”…and we’re kind of right. The birds know: it’s already here.