On my walk yesterday afternoon I spotted a couple of signs that food may again grow in these climes.
Small leaves and buds on a quince bush.
Buds begin to emerge (above) on cherry tree branch (below).
It’s not much, but it’s a start. Those signs, plus today’s amazing warmth give me hope that this miserable winter will eventually end, as I suppose we all knew it would.
I can’t tell you how happy I am to say that I’m sitting outside as I write this entry. The temperature is 68 degrees as I type. Yes, it might be more pleasant if the winds weren’t gusting to 26 mph, and, yes, there are still patches of snow on the ground. But I’m not complaining, believe me.
I can hear sparrows quarreling, mourning doves, the Campanile (a sure sign of south wind), my neighbor’s clanging wind “chime.” Yes, I can also hear the occasional roar of somebody’s inadequately muffled motorcycle, the hammering of roofers on my neighbor’s house down the street (I’d worry up there about the wind), and my tween neighbor’s music. But it’s all ever so much better than listening to the furnace blow.
Poking around in my yard I even found a bit of mint that has stayed green through subzero temps, probably thanks to all that snow.
Yes, the forecast calls for cooler temps tomorrow, rain and (sigh) snow. But today, it’s spring, and I’m reveling in it.