By Margaret Nitka
By night there is the full moon, planets lined up so close to the earth they call to us to look up in wonder. By day there’s a bloomfest going on at our feet. From where I stand I count hyacinth, crocus, daffodil and snowdrop buds popping open like flags unfurled on fresh green shoots. Bunnies hop out of the bushes and across the front lawn, unconcerned with my presence, blithely owning the feeling
of imminent spring. And so I give up my winter thinking. I was sure this would be one of those weird non-winters that finally stirred itself to deliver a punch of cold, snow and sleet the minute I stopped expecting it. Instead there were those two fat robins sitting on top
of a bare privet hedge during my morning walk today. They clinched the deal for me. They sat so quietly, claiming their place in the sun with their feathers all fluffed up and satisfied as they basked in the early light. I wondered if this local real estate was to their liking. It is my guess that the hedge will soon protect a nest with
The truth is there is a violent clash between warm and cold weather systems as they swirl across the continent. The boundary of spring and winter is a dangerous place for those caught in the borderland between seasons. Change is never easy, in our own lives as in nature. We can only hope that the rabbits and the robins and the flowers know something. Then all we can do is wait.