Days of Spring

Spring is a welcome thought today. Every week, old man winter plays the grump and stomps us down with another storm blowin’ in this March.

Spring is shedding horsehair all over my coat.

Spring is the woodpecker drilling away at the tall oak tree.

Spring is the promise of better days ahead.

Spring is the house cats moving from the east to the south window in search of deep, loving sunbaths.

Spring is an old friend.

Spring is the scuffle of skunks in the woods. It’s the aroma of fox scenting the wood paths in search of a mate.

Spring is most welcome today.

All hail the turn of the earth.



visitorA light snow last night,
and now the earth falls open to a fresh page.

A high wind is breaking up the clouds.
Children wait for the yellow bus in a huddle,

and under the feeder, some birds
are busy writing short stories,

poems, and letters to their mothers.
A crow is working on an editorial.

That chickadee is etching a list,
and a robin walks back and forth

composing the opening to her autobiography.
All so prolific this morning,

these expressive little creatures,
and each with an alphabet of only two letters.

A far cry from me watching
in silence behind a window wondering

what just frightened them into flight —
a dog’s bark, a hawk overhead?

or had they simply finished
saying whatever it was they had to say?

by Billy Collins

Chickadee by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Two black-capped chickadees perch in a shrub in Olmsted Falls, Ohio Friday, Jan. 8, 2010. Another blast of winter weather is forecast to bring additional snow to Ohio's lake shore areas Friday and into the weekend. (AP Photo/Mark Duncan)
(AP Photo/Mark Duncan)

Then piped a tiny voice hard by,
Gay and polite, a cheeful cry,
“Chick-a-dee-dee!” saucy note
Out of a sound heart and merry throat
As if it said, “Good day, good sir!
Fine afternoon, old passenger!
Happy to meet you in these places
Where January brings few faces.”