|American Robin (Turdus migratorius)|
“It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want—oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!”― Mark Twain
|The scene outside my kitchen window, Saturday, 21 March 2015. 1146 local.|
|Same scene, Saturday, 21 March 2015. 1535 local.|
Started with a light snow last night (probably about the same time as the Vernal Equinox was occurring). It was still snowing this morning. Not heavy, as you can see, but enough to paint the ground white.
By afternoon, everything which had fallen that evening and morning was gone. The sun was shining, temperatures were New England pleasant (no doubt the more southerly would find it a mite chilly).
Now one can see robins in Little Rhody nearly year round. I've seen them gathered in the crab apple trees at work in the very dead of winter. Partaking of the fermented wee apples in those trees. Squabbling like the locals down at the pub.
But they tend to stay off in the forest until Spring arrives.
Which it did on Friday (though Saturday was the first full day of Spring).
Seems the birds timed it right this year. A most pleasant day.
I doubt winter is truly over though. He goes down hard that one, usually with one more blast of Arctic air and one final dump of white stuff o'er the landscape.
But for now, I am enjoying what we've got.
Like Mr. Twain said, I don't quite know what it is I want. But the heart yearns for something.
If not downright aches for it.
|As the snow dwindled, the robins increased.|