WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

I knew I needed to go to the grocery store, but I sure hated to waste a beautiful, just-perfect-for-walking-morning, on such a mundane chore, so I hopped into the car and stole down to Wyandotte to visit Bishop Park first. It was so quiet and peaceful with an occasional seagull skimming low in the sky or strutting along pecking at what appeared to be imaginary seagull treats. Who can resist a respite, albeit brief, to enjoy this picture-perfect day that we waited for all those long Winter months? I think this picture captures Bishop Park’s peace and serenity. I strolled along the river’s edge, drinking in the beauty of the early morn, and greeting the occasional walker, jogger or mere passerby walking along contemplating life and enjoying the view. A handful of fishermen multi-tasked as they sat there with their lines bobbing on the sparkling water while simultaneously sipping steaming coffee and biting into a scrumptious-smelling breakfast sandwich. A few seagulls alighted near them, reluctant to stray far from the fisherman, as I think, they were hopeful a bite of biscuit might just might become their breakfast I knew I shouldn’t have gone down there when I had an agenda because, of course, I lingered way too long and hated to tear myself away. I do wish Wyandotte was within walking distance from my house, but sadly it is not, so a visit necessitates a car trip. I returned to the car and turned up Emmons Boulevard taking it straight to Meijer, where, just as I suspected, the crowd was there in full force ensuring they got their necessities for next Sunday. While it was a little nippy at the water’s edge, I thought it was a major concession on my part to leave the house without wearing my wool cap (finally), but, I was still over-dressed in a Winter coat and gloves and I was surprised to see most people were in shirt-sleeves or a light jackets. The crowds shuffled over and lingered at the Easter basket goodies as they perused Peeps in a rainbow of colors and picked up chocolate bunnies and lots of jellybeans, then loaded up their respective carts with the traditional trimmings for Easter dinner. I saw many holiday hams peeking out from grocery carts as they whizzed by me. As each item on the Easter checklist is completed, we now keep our fingers crossed that we’ll be blessed with equally beautiful weather next weekend for the event.

…and the flowers and the trees.

After too many days of being sequestered in the house, first, with a self-imposed Spring cleaning regimen I embarked on last week due to all the rain, then dealing with a wacky wireless router which necessitated a trip to Best Buy and making arrangements for an install (in between countless trips to the basement to tweak, unplug and re-plug in the old one), I was chomping at the bit to get out and walk. I did walk on Sunday morning and it was beautiful out, and I wrote about my trip, but when I went to post it, the wireless stopped working and could not be revived. It made me fractious indeed, and after too many days of high-tech frustration, I was happy to just suit up, tie my shoes, strap on my pedometer and bolt out the door before there were any more setbacks.

But, as I opened up the door on this coolish morn, what did I see but a big, fat robin with a huge piece of dry grass in his mouth, wearing his perpetual robin scowl. I immediately swiveled my head up to check out the top of the coach lamp under the awning, one of the neighborhood robins’ two favorite spots to start building a nest, but I saw no twigs, dry grass or mud to indicate he had set his sights here like I told you about before way back in June (https://lindaschaubblog.net/2013/06/23/evicted/). The season is young, however, and I made a mental note to check every day now. Then, I hurried to the front and was relieved to see no nest-building activities there either. Whew! I shook my head and I wanted to go back and shake my fist at that robin, but rather than getting myself all worked up, I turned on my heel and left for my walk.

As I strode down the driveway, I nearly had an encounter of the worst kind when a bee buzzed no more than five inches from my face. I have no idea where it came from, or where it was headed, but talk about up close and personal – as it zipped by, I could have counted its stripes! Believe me, that little winged critter was not lethargic, as if it had just awakened from hibernating all Winter.

I almost turned around and went back in the house as I was thinking for sure there would soon be an encounter number three. Instead, I picked up my pace, happy to be walking on such a beautiful day and headed down the street. The sun shining so brightly felt wonderful, even though it was not enough to radiate any warmth on my face. The big orb hovered in a flawless blue sky, marred only by the occasional seagull screeching and swooping across its expanse. The songbirds were out in full force today and it was wonderful to hear them trilling and trying to out-tweet one another. I tried to whistle back at them for awhile, and they would match me note for note, but then I had to disappoint them by stopping when my ChapStick quit working and my lips got dry. My fine feathered friends were happy to bask in the sunshine, just like I was, and they continued on with their songfest. A woodpecker rat-a-tat-tatted as I walked down Emmons Boulevard, and soon I heard another one start drilling into a tree as each bird played its own tune which you could hear above the street noise.

The flowers I am monitoring on the corner house two blocks away are really getting tall, but no blooms yet – it was quite amazing how large they got since I last checked them out on Sunday. Everywhere I looked, the trees were just starting to form tiny buds and that was a welcome sight (except for my allergies). As I wended my way back home an hour later, the streets were crowded with cars transporting workers to jobs or kids to school and a handful of pooches were enjoying a morning promenade. A few of them were still wearing wool coats. I heard the scrunch of tiny fertilizer nuggets under my feet as I walked … some of the fertilizer, or perhaps Mother Nature, has worked some magic as the grass is already starting to green up. (Groan.) Most of the trees on Emmons Boulevard in Wyandotte are large and stately looking, and really enhance the front yards of the two-story homes. We have our old, tall trees in Lincoln Park, but most of them on Ferris were severely trimmed a few years ago and now look like over-sized slingshots. Other trees were painted white half-way up many decades ago, and most of the white paint has sloughed off, giving them a sad, tired look. Several of the trees in our neighborhood are diseased or have some type of malady, because whenever we have volatile Summer storms, long strips of bark peel off and are scattered about on the neighbors’ lawns.

I love this gnarly old tree pictured above which I pass on almost every walk I take, and certainly when I head back and forth to Council Point Park. This tree looms large and is a little spooky looking with its lumps and bumps on its trunk, and especially now with its still-bare branches, it really resembles a tree right out of a Halloween scene. When I pass it, I always wonder how old it is and if it were to split open, just how many concentric rings we’d find inside? Today I mused how many times I will pass this behemoth before the year draws to a close?

All too soon I was rounding the corner and heading up the driveway and sorry to see my brief respite end so quickly. I went to the front door to get today’s mail a mere three hours later and found a big plop of mud-covered dried grass sitting on the lid of the mailbox. I glanced right up and a nest was in progress in the bend of my front coach lamp. I took a couple of garbage bags and wadded them up and put them on top of the nest to thwart any more efforts and just as I closed the door, I saw one very angry-looking robin meet my gaze from his perch on the split-rail fence. ‘Nuff said – let the territorial wars begin.

Well, I made my contribution to National Walking Day 2014 by walking 3.00 miles on a beautiful but chilly morning. I still have not made it down to Council Point Park, but I am waiting for perfect – translation warmer – weather with no chance for any ice to still be lurking about. At Meijer the other day, I bought a bag of peanuts in the shell for my peanut pals plus a loaf of “bird bread” (since I used up the bread I had saved for the ducks on myself when I ran out during the Winter) so I am good to go. I now await Mother Nature’s cooperation, and it is not looking like it will happen during the next few days since we’ve moved on to those pesky April showers. I hope you squeezed a short walk into your waking hours in honor of this day which recognizes walking for health purposes or pure enjoyment. Feet don’t fail me now!

My friend Evelyn e-mailed the above picture to me following a recent snowstorm in Richmond, Virginia. The city pretty much closed up from their five-inch snowfall, and she enjoyed a day off from the law office where she works. She put her free time to good use, clicking away on her digital camera to capture images of the uncharacteristic snowfall in her backyard before it melted in the next day or so. The pure-white snow made for an interesting shot as it drifted down and settled over a wicked-looking, wrought-iron crab flower pot holder she bought at a Summer art fair. The crab indeed looks as if it was peeking out, with a surprised look … perhaps even a scowl, from beneath the snow. I kept the picture and decided when, or if, we got our final snowfall in March which would take us over that elusive record of 93 inches we were striving for, I would use the picture. (Besides, it is the Lenten season and it sure is hard to inject much seafood humor in a blog post.) Well, March 2014 will be just a memory in a matter of hours and no more snow materialized. In fact today, for Opening Day, we got one of the nicest weather days we have had in a very long time, and in general, Detroit home openers usually have abysmal weather. So, it appears that March will exit very lamb-like … hey, we deserve it after the Winter we had. Let’s hope we don’t find any surprises tomorrow morning on April Fool’s Day. On this morning’s journey I travelled along Fort Street, on a sunny morn, but the sun didn’t fool me as the air still had quite a bite to it. I got in a few miles, walking as the crow flies to Southfield and Fort, then turned around and headed straight home (and no, I did not walk sideways like a crab). Well, all this rather corny humor aside, there were no smiles and chuckles with the abrupt end to either Michigan team finding itself in the Final Four, or perhaps at the tournament championship game on April 7th. Sure, Sunday’s back-to-back losses by our great college basketball teams bites – or maybe I should say pinches, but rather than stay mad and crabby, we pinned our collective hopes on the Tigers and they didn’t disappoint, that is … after they clawed their way back to win the home opener. Going forward, we’ll expect nothing less than continued success and a trip to the World Series.

The past two days when it rained – the regular variety and the frozen precip, the weather folks were spot on, so yesterday when they all concurred there would be a wintry mix this morning, I decided that I’d lose the alarm clock, sleep in, hang out huddled under my covers for awhile to hear the news of the day, then mosey down to the exercise bike for the third day in a row. That sounded like a nice plan to ease into my Saturday. So, while I was still snuggled under my covers, I turned my headphones on to hear the weatherman say that now rain or snow MIGHT be coming, and if so, that it would be late in the day. Well, I thought a few weeks ago, they gave us a bum steer, and at that time, I planned to just rely on looking outside after I got up in the morning. I guess they can’t predict the weather 100% of the time, and unbelievably, I have found a weather site that gives the weather one year in advance – http://www.weathertrends360.com. Just for kicks, I’m going to monitor it going forward to see how accurate they are. I also checked the pollen count today, having sneezed a few times, and was surprised to find the pollen count is medium today in Lincoln Park. Really?! Where are the trees, grass and flowers that are contributing to the pollen count spike? I heard the allergies would be bad this year after our brutal Winter.

After a quick breakfast, I ventured out on what was a blustery March day, lifted right out of the ditty about “March winds” – brrrr. As I walked past the house with the sprouting daffodils, I stole a glance over to the garden bed and noticed that their light-green spindly shoots were still intact, despite the freezing rain that was pelting down on them mid-day this past Thursday. The wind was whipping around and it did look like a rain or snow sky, so I only travelled over to Ford Park two blocks away to walk loops around the Park, so I would not get drenched by a sudden downpour or snow squall. A low-hanging branch snagged my wool hat and lifted it right from my head. ‘Well, c’mon back for goodness sake’ I said out loud thinking to myself ‘it is much too cold to be turning the hat loose yet’ … besides, I already lost one cap last year during an especially gusty breath of wind in the Fall at Council Point Park. I thought I made a concession while getting dressed this morning, since it is Spring after all, by eliminating my warm scarf around my neck, but that was a dumb move, and I soon zipped my coat all the way up so it functioned like a turtleneck to keep warm.

I went three loops around the Park and racked up 2.50 miles, and for each loop I walked, I saw the same pair of young boys playing on the two slides at the Park. It is a rather unique piece of equipment in that there are two slides – a traditional one and another one which looks like a tunnel and there is a hammock-like, slatted walkway strung between them and it was swinging back and forth when the boys walked across it. A woman was nearby, probably their mother, walking a dog who barked incessantly because no one paid him any attention – the boys were too busy sliding or climbing and she was either texting a mile a minute or animatedly speaking on the phone each time I happened to look over. She kept a watchful eye from afar of the boys’ escapades as they kept going round-and-round and down the slide. I wondered at some point if they would become bored with that ad nauseum routine, until I remembered my trips to the park during my childhood, and, that I also hated to tear myself away from the swing, teeter-totter or the slide when told it was time to be heading home. I’d push the envelope until my father would finally holler at me, following several warnings that we should get going, at which point he’d say “this is absolutely the last time Linda” and, only then, would I scramble off whatever playground equipment I was enjoying to walk by his side and start heading for home. It was refreshing to see the kids enjoying themselves on the playground equipment instead of being parked in front of a T.V. or hunched over some electronic device. Council Point Park has nice playground equipment as well, but I rarely see any kids enjoying it. So, while I mused over the tedium of going down the slide so many times, perhaps those kids were looking at me and thinking ‘wonder why that lady keeps walking around the Park in circles – I mean, how boring is that?’

While I sauntered along on my journey, I noticed on the shady side of the street, there was still snow but the Park itself is now snow-free but covered in icy pools. On the sunny side of the street, the melted snow was still in icy patches near the sewer drains.

I passed several birdfeeders where birds were gathered, still getting their sustenance from the kindly people who enjoy their visit to their respective yards. Many of the just-topped-off feeders had birds perched or clinging on the sides, and a few feeders listed either from the wind, or sometimes a fat squirrel who had hopped aboard, having decided the birdfeeder was his first stop of the day. As I walked through the neighborhood, up ahead I watched a woman, still clad in her robe and slippers, open her side door and toss out a handful of what appeared to be crackers or cookies onto the driveway. While there were not many tidbits there, instantly I saw several sparrows abandon a nearby suet cake, hoping to get a bigger piece of the pie before returning to the suet holder and adjacent birdseed feeder. As I drew near, most of the large crumbs were taken, except for one piece of the treat, and as I passed by, two sparrows were “duking it out” to see who would claim the prize. It wasn’t pretty – I witnessed pecking, much cackling and wings flapping as I walked by, and shortly after I passed the driveway, I saw one triumphant sparrow fly past me with his prized morsel in his beak. Don’t let the sparrow’s diminutive size fool you because sparrows are really very vicious birds who will attack larger birds and take their food, and even their nests, then use those misappropriated nests to raise their own offspring. Just look at the picture above, and you will see this common house sparrow has taken a rather defiant posture on the feeder regarding the seeds. You don’t see anyone else sharing the wealth do you? Bullying amongst our feathered friends. Well, how sad … and all along you’ve heard that expression about how it is a “dog-eat-dog-world”.

Today’s blog post was churning around in my brain yesterday and I originally intended to entitle it “Fitz-n–startz” because it seems to me that since I resumed my walking regimen, the marching ventures in this month of March have mostly resulted in fits and starts, nothing regular. There has been nothing much to write about during the past few trips – no interesting encounters, a rather lackluster landscape and plodding along with salt chunks crunching under the soles of my walking shoes, whether I am walking in the street or residential sidewalks. The sky most of the time has been dreary and cloudy, the remaining snow is rather dingy and the stringy-looking grass is starved for TLC in the form of fertilizer and sunshine because it sure looks brown and blah right now. Likewise, it is hard to have a spring in your step when you are pounding the pavement, in air temps of 11 degrees like when I stepped outside this morning. Perhaps I am just getting old, but it is hard to muster much enthusiasm for a walk when the wind is stinging your face and whipping through your bulky clothes from the tip of your head to your toes. But I’ve gone out most days anyway because there is no snow to slow my steps. There will never be 100% perfect conditions to walk every single day, and I guess I should reconcile myself to that fact if I want to consider myself an avid walker and perhaps strive to set a walking mileage goal again later this year. Thus, I really must get going in earnest before yard work rears its ugly head and puts a kibosh on the daily walk, plus soon I will be contending with the inevitable April showers. Now, I’ve never been that much of a free spirit that I’d be drawn outside to walk in the rain, let alone dance in it as that expression goes. Perhaps I am jaded by way too many years of commuting to work by public transportation and incurring the wrath of Mother Nature, i.e. slogging through a driving rain, or standing tapping my foot waiting on the bus in windy, drizzly conditions when an umbrella does nothing but turn inside out or try to go airborne. Thus, I am less inclined to venture out in inclement weather just to walk. Today is the birthday of poet Robert Frost who was born 140 years ago on this date. I put a little twist on the title of his famous poem below on my blog post today. With potential freezing rain predicted in the overnight, perhaps tomorrow morning the road for me will be a trip to the basement to pedal on the exercise bike and think of warmer, more-inviting days ahead. Perhaps another 100 days tacked onto today will yield such an inviting road less travelled as this girl above has chosen … peace, solitude and beauty all around. In the meantime, a girl can hope and dream can’t she?

* * * * *
The Road Not Taken –by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I —
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

[Image by photographer Marcino at Pixabay]

Today’s walk took me past Memorial Park where I watched two boys romping with a German Shepherd over the brownish frozen grass of the two-block-long grounds. The trio were running back and forth and the dog was trying its best to outrun the boys. There was no stick, ball or Frisbee that I could see. It was simply sheer exuberance and getting the overly long Winter kinks out of their respective systems, and they all will sleep good tonight with that cold, fresh air. Seeing those laughing, red-cheeked boys and their pet close by their side, made me think of Ginny who is the Red Tick Hound you see above. Today Ginny is with her new owners, Evelyn and Tim Beaumont, as they introduce her to their favorite go-to weekend haunt, a three-mile park path where they often go to walk or bike. Ginny will be cavorting with Evelyn and Tim, communing with the other pooches in the park, and in general, loving life, with many more happy trails down the line. Spring is a time for new beginnings and so it was for Ginny and the Beaumonts. You see … Ginny was a shelter pet. And not very long ago, life was not so rosy for Ginny whose owner dropped her off at Angel Dogs pet shelter after deciding not to shoot her. Yes, her former owner was a farmer who was going to shoot her, like she was a varmint, just because he didn’t want her anymore. Ginny looks a little hesitant above during the meet-and-greet, with her bowed head and without a wagging tail, as she was paraded out for a look-see by her prospective owners. If there was to be a thought bubble above the head of this 1½-year-old pooch, it would no doubt read “oh, please let them take me to a home where I will find companionship and love … I hear the other dogs at the shelter talk about their past, once from loving homes, with humans out there that will treat you with respect, and lavish love on you … please, oh please, pick me”. What Ginny didn’t know was that Evelyn and Tim already scoped her out on Angel Dog’s website and they were wishing just as hard as Ginny for this to happen because their hearts were heavy with grief following the sudden death of their 12-year old dog Dempsey that week. Dempsey had a tumor removed back on October 10th and then two weekends ago, the tumor suddenly returned and grew out of control over the weekend. A trip to the vet on Monday morning had Dempsey placed under observation and on antibiotics with surgery scheduled for Wednesday morning. But the surgery would never happen because in the two days Dempsey was at the vet’s office, the tumor was so aggressive that it wrapped around his muscle and nerves and thus thwarted any surgery. Evelyn and Tim had him euthanized that day. The shock, of losing Dempsey followed by the inevitable heartache and grief, got them thinking of Angel Dogs and perusing the website. Tim, especially, mourned the loss of poor Dempsey, as he has been laid off since the beginning of the year and Dempsey was his constant companion during the long days at home by himself. So Tim and Evelyn decided to adopt another shelter pet and their application and approval was speedy since they had already adopted Dempsey and his sidekick Skip the same day a dozen years ago. Angel Dogs knew that little Ginny would be in good hands and they were happy to turn her over. A flurry of pictures of Ginny acclimating to her new family have landed in my e-mail inbox. I know, all these miles away, that no one will croon “You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog” to this little ol’ red tick dawg because it looks like she is already sittin’ pretty as a princess. So there you have it … one happy tail.

To me, today felt more like the first day of Spring. On the heels of our ugly Winter, Spring hasn’t even gotten into the formative stage yet. The grass is still ugly and brown and full of the Winter’s worth of litter, bedraggled-looking plants and flowers still fill gardens, pots and planter’s boxes and what can you say about those big ugly piles of dirty snow that are everywhere? On a positive note, the local Dairy Queen opened. I’m guessing they wanted to compete with McDonald’s Shamrock Shakes that were all the rage the past few weeks. Today was the longest walk so far this year: 3½ miles. That is the same amount of steps as my round trip to Council Park Point including one lap on the perimeter path. So I am now ready to tackle my favorite go-to walking spot, but query: is Council Point Park ready for me? In early November I nearly wiped out on black ice on the trail and there is too much snow and ice meltdown yet, so I will bide my time and thus savor the first visit all the more. The sun sure brightened my morning and there were a variety of birds singing sweetly to greet me as I walked through the neighborhood and the sidewalks on the adjacent streets to Ford Park. As before, I saw the same robins trying to drill the frozen ground for grubs and worms and scowling at their failure to find any. In my opinion, robins wear a perpetual scowl. Spring is in the air and the squirrels were chasing one another up-and-down-and-around the big trees in the Park, running on pent-up energy renewed by the discovery of last year’s stash of nut goodies. Our neighborhood squirrel, Sammy, is either too pooped to participate in the pursuit of girl squirrels or he just prefers to wait patiently, positioned very carefully on the gazebo support railings, ready to pounce on peanuts as soon as my neighbor Marge tosses them out the door wall to him. Well, some things never change. He is always looking for handouts and he has found a kind soul in Marge who will share the love and the occasional fistful of peanuts. Above is a picture of Sammy from last Spring, sleuthing from his vantage point and wearing a rather indignant expression that says “c’mon where have you been – I’m starving?”

Mother Nature has been disparaged to the hilt this season and it looks like the hits will just keep on comin’. Even the WWJ meteorologist quipped this morning that someone forgot to send Mother Nature the memo that Spring arrives today. When I stepped outside for my walk this morning it was windy, but heck … March winds are nothing new, however, a few tenacious snowflakes fell and hung onto my nose and my sleeve for dear life and finally melted – whew! The ice on the Detroit River pictured above is starting to break up and soon the ice fisherman will pack up their gear and the freighters will start ferrying their cargo back-and-forth along Michigan’s waterways. The Winter of our discontent has caused constant comments and my long-distance chums who live in warmer climes have bemoaned the weather just as much as we have. My friend, Evelyn, who resides in Richmond, Virginia marveled at their 4-5 inch snowfall, took many pictures to show me the accumulation of “the white stuff” and enjoyed 1½ snow days off from work. Cheryl, a high school buddy, who now lives in Cary, North Carolina and is a teacher, enjoyed a whopping 9 weather-related days off from school due to snowy or icy conditions; unfortunately they had many make-up days on Saturdays … groan. She e-mailed pictures of her deck glazed over with ice or tall pine trees bending over with heavy, wet snow. However, unlike our snow which has hung on interminably, their snowfall melted and departed quickly. My friend Carol, who lives near Rochester, New York had a mild Winter and kept telling me that we swapped seasons this year since this weather was the norm for them. Remind me never to move to Honeoye Falls, New York. We’ll move on and gradually the Winter of 2013-2014 will become a dim memory. Even today’s Google Doodle brightened our spirits with a touch of Spring. Hopefully you’ll find a smile on your face and a spring in your step before the sun goes down on this first day of the vernal equinox.

Well the daffodils got the last laugh as to good ol’ Mother Nature. As brutal as our Winter has been, who would have thought the resilient daffodils would have the audacity to poke their heads up through the earth so early? This is the third Spring I’ve pounded the same pavement in the neighborhood, and so this morning I thought I’d check and see if the garden beds I routinely pass have yielded any Spring blooms yet. I figured that the bulbs buried deep in the dirt would produce sprouts much later when the ground finally started warming up. Yet, miraculously when I walked by and peered into the garden beds, which just shed their massive snow cover within the past week, I saw tiny light green sprouts, looking like chives or onion tips peeking up through the dirt. They were already a spindly three inches tall! I like watching the daffodils, tulips and crocuses emerge each Spring and while I patter on by daily, it is like watching a time-lapse film as they steadily reach for the sky, growing bigger until they eventually blossom. As soon as I returned home, I checked along the fence line thinking I’ll start monitoring Marge’s crocuses but the snow still was covering them up. Maybe next week. A few years ago my mom and I received an amaryllis plant for Christmas. It was our first amaryllis and I followed the directions to the letter as I hoped to ensure the plant and its annual blooms would be around for many years to come. I started watering the dirt as soon as the container was unwrapped, prompting the bulb to start growing immediately. But, for the longest time it was just a fancy pot with dark earth inside – then one day, I spied a tiny sprout. That sprout grew like a beanstalk and soon had to be tethered to a tall stick as the heavy blooms were top heavy and the plant kept bending in half. I took this picture above by propping the plant up against the kitchen cabinet. Sadly my mom was no longer here to witness the day-to-day progress and the beautiful blooms she had anticipated when we received the plant several months before. Since it bloomed on the first day of Spring I referred to it as “The Spring Thing”. Unfortunately, though I followed the directions for post-bloom care, it never sprouted, nor bloomed again … so much for the green thumb I thought I had. Before I ducked back into the house, I swiveled my head in the direction of the two big plum trees to determine the origin of the bird who sang so sweetly from the highest branch. Between slices of a brilliant blue sky, complete with long pointed rays of sun, I saw many buds lining the bare branches where that little songbird was perched. Ahh, that made it seem that Spring is now within reaching distance – T minus 2 days ‘til Spring arrives.