Spring

After 53 winters, one would guess that I might have a fundamental understanding that Spring Always Comes.

And while I seem to understand that intellectually, at some level, I seem to forget. Every year.

The temp today will climb to 64 degrees; Tuesday and Wednesday will bring 72. The weekend was sunny and balmy. The birds are singing and they don't have to flock to the birdfeeder as they have in weeks past; worms must be rising to the top of the soil.

Every year, this shocks me. It seems I resign myself to limited sunshine, cold temps, and gloomy skies.

We'll have a warm break and I'll see crocuses or hear birds, or see a flash of green, and I'll be shocked. "Spring is going to come!" It's always a lovely surprise, and in some way, I guess I am glad I get the annual amnesia. Without it, I wouldn't have such a lovely gift when the signs come.