The cardinal drops his liquid notes into the mists of morning, fog over snow. It was warm yesterday (in the thirties), it will be warmer today: yesterday I was surprised to see how much snow had melted, surprised to see dark dampened grass on hillsides where the snowbanks had receded. The ground has been covered with a deep blanket of white for so long that I’d forgotten what was under it — I forgot that pile of wood was there, I forgot about the fallen-over dead thistles. Maybe they’re something I’d rather not see, yet — it’s not yet time for spring, especially in this year’s long winter — maybe, by the time all the snow is gone, it will be warm enough to work outside. So many years recently, spring has caught me unprepared: I didn’t start seeds indoors early enough, I end up planting them in the ground instead since I didn’t get that jump-start on gardening. I’ve vowed that’s not going to happen this year! — Maybe the long winter will help me out — give me time to get growing.
The fog is gone, and now the sky is clear. Two sunny days in a row — that’s something we haven’t seen in a long time. Yesterday it was so good to feel the sun’s warmth, even indoors: it was good to see the sunlight forming bright rectangles on the floor as it spilled through the skylights in the library. Outside the college, people were walking, stopping to talk in small groups — they seemed to be trying to find a reason to stay outdoors — when for so many weeks, no one could stay outside for long. I found I was starting to remember what summer was like: I looked across campus and imagined the marsh turning green again, birds flying over. Today, the birds are more active here, flitting from tree to tree — even more active than yesterday. Tomorrow another snowstorm is predicted, and winter may settle down again. Today is a welcome reprieve.
