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 |
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.
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