Thursday blossomed into such warmth, near 70, that I was able to spade three rows in the garden for early spinach, leaf lettuce and sugar peas. The 4-year-old trailed behind and put worms into an old yellow lemonade container from some county fair in August.
For days, male cardinals, brilliantly red, have been staking out territory from tree tops. But, every time I try to get a good photo, something happens.
Until this morning. Though the photo isn’t as good as I had hoped, I finally snapped one singing mightly in our maple.
It feels like the behavior is a week or two behind, but that may be me projecting the winter feeling too long for me.
Then there’s Storm.
This morning–49 blessed degrees at daybreak–I took the 2-year-old black Lab on our usual morning ramble and he strained at everything.
Canada geese pairs swam around territory they will nest in shortly around the town pond.
Storm finally dragged me down to the water’s edge–the place where my heart may be most at home–and he went for a long swim.
Even though he’s a Lab, it seemed odd. The last of the ice only left the town pond sometime on Thursday, so the water had to be in the 30s.
Air hands a warm promise, water hangs on a cold memory.