Springing Up Spring

It is late January and spring is evident.

Hip Hip Hooray!

The night temps can still dip into the 30's and the morning hours chilly until that faithful sun warms up the afternoons and the thermometer reads above 70.

The grass, designed for hot temps, is still dormant and brown,

but other signs are springing up all around.

Springing up Spring!

A bouncy sound.

Spring IS bouncy...busy...energetic.

I am strongly aware that the arrival of springtime is not nearly so magical

(and therapeutic) as it was during most of my years

when I lived in the North Country of New York.

Those years winter lasted from late October until April.

They were the times when, if there weren't signs of spring hidden

among the melting snow,

we would all just about lose our minds.

In a type of desperation, I would go out with a shovel and dig at the piles of snow that lingered in the shadows at the edge of the woods.

Left on its own, that icy snow refused to melt and disappear

until the sun rose high enough to reach those dark, protective areas.

But I simply couldn't bear the sight of snow into mid-May.

I tossed the old stuff haphazardly out into patches of brown ground and laughed like a crazy woman when it melted.

Just doing my part to loosen up winter's grip on the land.

So, in retrospect, spring's arrival in Central Texas is not nearly so dramatic nor necessary for my presence of mind. There is no cabin fever here. Some of the trees, like the Live Oaks, for example, never even lose their leaves until March so the trees remain green and vibrant all winter long.

Still, the sight of fresh and new green leaves peeking up in the empty flower beds quickens my pulse. (Who doesn't get a thrill from the predictability and hardiness of perennials?)

The birdsong has changed and its melodies speak of nesting. One of our birdhouses is being inspected even today by a busy, little wren.

And the calendar is still on January!

And then, this evening a major flock of robins suddenly filled the sky.

Hundreds of robins, circling the trees around us.

Landing then launching again, chirping and singing.

The redness of their breasts glowed in the late afternoon sun.

Wonderful!! Incredible!!

They won't stay here (sadly) but are migrating through--

on their annual migration northward.

Get ready, those of you who are still covered with snow,

these definitive harbingers of spring are on their way to you!

Now that is pretty sweet, you must agree.

PS: I took pictures of these growing things but am unable to post them presently.

Sorry for the post of words only.

I promise to get those pictures on the blog very soon.

They are just too exciting to pass up sharing with you.

Meanwhile, if the view from your windows is not yet like mine,

rejoice in knowing that springtime WILL come... in time.

Remember, the robins are on their way.