The first full day of Spring is gloomy. The sky has been the color of dirty snow all day and the snow flurries of this morning have turned to a steady snow fall. This morning, walking Thor at the usual 6:00AM hour in a very murky dawn, I heard lots of birds whistling, singing, calling. Just a few days ago the sound of one lone bird at that hour was cause for happiness and great anticipation of the soon to arrive Spring. Now, like a tsunami gathering strength, the season is changing. There still may be freezing temperatures and snow flurries but green stalks are appearing in the flower beds, crocuses have already bloomed, winter is over.
My birthday, at the very beginning of March, heralds the Spring. I can feel the change in weather those last few days of winter. First, there is daylight peaking through the dark eastern sky. That first, brave bird sings. The wind smells like damp soil ready to be tilled. Now that I have only about a quarter of my life left, I have a melancholy feeling that arrives with Spring. The change of seasons, once so delightful, is relentless, cruelly hurrying on and on. I find that this snowy day is welcome in a way. Winter has not completely gone.