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Hard freeze last night. Today, the north wind is like a scalpel, slicing through anything and everything. I quickly return to the house for a heavier jacket. We have a grandfather to transport and an early basketball game to attend. Six-year-olds on a half court. I get the coat from the entryway closet and glance through the window. A dozen robins, fluffed and overlarge with cold, graze the front yard. No worms today. Outside again, fortified against the frigid wind, I see a flash of color in a tree barren of leaves. The first bluebird of the year. A male, a scout, searching for a summer home. Robins and bluebirds. The great wheel turns and yields a promise. The brown and cold will become green and warm. Bluebirds in a tree, Robins grazing in the yard, Harbingers of spring. |
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