The other morning I woke to a faintly familiar sound. A strange chirping that reminded me of something deep in the recesses of my memory. What could it be? A call from another time. A time before the Polar Vortex. Wait a minute….! It couldn’t!

BIRDS?! It IS March, after all. But – birds?

Then in my ADD manner, I forgot about them – until I was on the way home from walking Michael to school. There it was again, but this time a cracking sound. “Woody? Woody Woodpecker? Is that you?” And sure enough it was. The other birds were building nests… I admired them for a while. And then –

OH, CRAP! NO ONE TOLD THE BIRDS… It’s still winter and they came anyway.


Birds mean sunshine, and grass (that you can see) and BBQs, hanging out on the deck admiring the crocuses. But when I opened our gate…




Well, here’s our deck

There’s the grill.

And they came anyway. 

It reminded me –

Sometimes normal beautiful things happen even in the midst of an unwelcome “new normal”. I can see hope through the ice.

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