The birds are happy.
After several months of the cold and rain, the weather has begun to turn. Yesterday the sun came out all day, and the temperature climbed to 14 degrees (that’s 57 for those of you in Oregon City). When Kris and I left to run errands, I was wearing long underwear, a turtleneck, and a woolen jacket. “Hm,” I said. “I’m going to be too hot.”
In the afternoon, I watched the birds come and go while Kris pruned the roses. The cats basked in the sun. Toto stretched on the floor of the parlor, befriending a sunbeam. She was so happy, in fact, that when Max came in, she tolerated his presence, even though he was playing with her tail!
Today isn’t nearly as warm, and the skies are overcast. It’ll probably rain. But the birds don’t care. They can sense the coming spring. They’re chirping and flitting about the yard. The flickers seem to be especially pleased.
One male flicker is sitting outside my office right now. Every thirty seconds or so, he pecks the metal gutter: t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t. The other neighborhood flickers fly to his side, hang around for a while, and then leave. The females spread their tail feathers in courtship.
Spring isn’t here, but the world can sense it approaching.