That Time of Year

That Time of Year

A redbird (cardinal) just lit in the crepe myrtle bush in front of my window. Yesterday, while I was sitting on the deck, a black-capped chickadee flew onto my head. He was there only briefly because I, startled, brushed my hand on my head. Birds are busy, busy, building nests, sitting on eggs, or taking care of babies. It’s spring! And spring means re- birth and hope, and a stirring to life after a long winter.

Two tulips that Sara and I planted fifteen years ago are blooming. This wouldn’t be noteworthy, except they usually don’t. I was afraid that maybe they had died, but no, there they are! Bright yellow spots of sunshine on the ground.

Just like the birds, people are stirring and moving, and finding new joy and hope in the season. No matter the ills of the world, the human spirit lifts its head and finds a reason to sing. It is spring!

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