Longer days

Each day the sun shines a little longer. I’m not at the point of noticing that every day is sucking a little less, but I expect there are imperceptible increments of change. I know Dad is gone, but my mind can’t—or refuses—to understand that he’s not coming back. It’s bound to sink in eventually.

I’m on spring break this week. So far, I’ve had my teeth cleaned, done my long-neglected grocery shopping (which seemed expensive, but was really no more than what I normally spend in two weeks), gotten a haircut, and helped Hilda pack up Dad’s clothes. We are trying to find the new normal.

Meanwhile, old friends are returning from the south. Robins are everywhere, although when they are puffed up on these frosty mornings, I wonder if they don’t wish they’d stayed put for another week or two.

Fluffed up robin in the frosty grass

Hilda doesn’t like the redwing blackbirds. They are mean and territorial, chasing the other birds from the feeders. I can’t claim to be fond of them when they dive bomb my head during nesting season.

Redwing blackbird

Still, they always remind me of a time in college when Marian and I went for a walk in the rhododendron gardens. There was a redwing blackbird there displaying his epaulets. Having grown up with them my whole life, I didn’t take much notice. Marian, a life-long resident of Sacramento, remarked on his beauty. This was the first inkling I had that California was generally populated with drab birds. I assumed since it was a warm place the birds would be colorful, like in the tropics. I knew very little about ecology then. Birds that live in the dense rainforest need bright colors to be seen by potential mates. Birds that live in the dry chaparral need camouflage to not be eaten by predators.

The goldfinches are molting, one of the most welcome signs of spring. Soon they will be in their cheery yellow plumage with cute little black berets.

A goldfinch changing to summer plumage with a house finch behind

We have seen turkeys at the edge of the field. I tried to get a picture of one Sunday, but even though he was very far away, he took off running as soon as I walked outside.  We had two sandhill cranes over by the toad pond yesterday morning. They too flew away before I could get my camera.

A less skittish deer wandered through the field Sunday evening, casually grazing on what can’t really be called green grass yet.

A deer in the field

The earth awakens. Better times are coming.