“Sparrow on a Cold Winter’s Day”
Image and copyright by Rodney Campbell: https://www.flickr.com/photos/acrylicartist/16323571509
Spring must be just around the corner.
Or … so they say.
The birds are singing louder and the Scotsman with the heavy brogue who touts Scotts crabgrass killer has returned to the airwaves.
Well, that all sounds promising, despite our smorgasbord of bad weather yesterday wherein Mother Nature dealt out every type of weather card imaginable over the course of the day.
We started out with a quick two inches of snow, followed by freezing rain, then it warmed up a little and then we had “regular” rain … lovely.
So this morning, after I booted up and suited up, I slipped out the side door, gingerly stepping down on the glassy-looking, ice-slickened sidewalk, taking great care to shuffle slowly to the garage. Some spots were bumpy, some just glazed over and I didn’t want to wipe out. I heard a big truck huffing and puffing nearby and wondered if it was a Zamboni coming to smooth out my driveway and sidewalk which surely rivaled an ice rink.
The sky was gray, and the sun was absent, however, the birds who formerly congregated in the two plum trees on my next-door-neighbor’s property, were huddled together yonder as if they were in some type of birdie kaffeeklatsch. I listened to their twittering as I inched down the sidewalk, and their cheery notes gave me hope that perhaps Spring may not be far off.
Those sparrows had to relocate to new digs after the two diseased trees split in the November 24th windstorm and were removed by the City. I wondered where the birds disappeared to because I really missed hearing their cheeps and chirps all Winter while I was outside.
But, suddenly … there they were, sparrows lined up like soldiers, their uniforms a drab brown color, with many pair of delicate feet gripping the sturdy branch.
They were singing their little hearts out … that is, until they saw me.
Then they stopped.
They looked me up and down, and, as if shaking their heads, probably wondered aloud why I was bedecked in a down coat, big hat and lug boots, and treading so slowly down the pathway. It was, after all, finally above the freezing mark.
I went in and started up the car, then stole another glance over at the contingent of sparrows while I stood in the driveway waiting for the car exhaust to exit the garage so I could close the door.
Perhaps they were studying me, happy to know they only had to lift off and fly to navigate from Point “A” to “Point B” and none of this silly baby steps stuff.
They finally resumed singing, having deemed me “safe” and no threat, even though I was wearing a coat stuffed with feathers. They probably wished they were like their counterparts who flew South, instead of hanging out here and toughin’ it out. I don’t know if they regret their lot in life, but I know I am ready to soar right past the tail end of Winter into some more seasonable weather … soon.