I am sitting in the screen porch writing this column while listening to the sweet sound of water running off the roof into the gutters. The woods outside still have a good six inches of slushy snow and the ice on Pokegama has just, today, begun to take on a more bluish gray tint. Even so, I have faith. I heard a Robin yesterday.
After all, if you can’t trust a Robin when it comes to Spring, who can you trust?
My husband tells me I’ve been a little ornerier than usual lately. Oh, really? Like I hadn’t noticed. The poor man doesn’t know how close he came to being married to a particular character from that Stephen King movie “The Shining” a week ago. I don’t even want to live with me. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Spring has been hitting her snooze alarm for two months, refusing to get out of bed. Or maybe, just maybe it was because of all the folks who kept saying things like, “Hey! Cold enough for ya?” and “I guess it could be worse. At least we don’t have hurricanes!” to me during March and then April.
Um…hurricanes generally only last for a couple of days. Yes, they are loud and wet and messy, I know. But I haven’t seen bare ground in my yard since, let’s see…October? I have forgotten what green grass looks like. I miss grass.
But this morning when I walked outside, I’m pretty sure I even smelled something slightly resembling April. And right now, I can hear the faint, far-off low rumble of thunder. And then, of course, there are the Robins which as I’ve already explained would never kid around about something as important as Spring. Not this year.
This week, little kids will fill May Baskets to leave on the steps of their neighbors just as we did when we were kids growing up in town. Soon, teenagers will skip school to spear suckers in swollen streams. There will be proms and graduations and summer weddings to celebrate. Bikes to ride. Marshmallows to roast. We may still have snow piles in the yard on the Fishing Opener but we will be at the cabin doing cabin things like thousands of other Minnesota families that weekend.
Welcome, Spring. We are really, really glad you’re here.
A little bird told me to tell you that.