I don’t know a soul who isn’t ready for cold weather to be over. Even my friends who prefer winter are tired of this one, and those of us who struggle with cold, damp, dark, bleak, depressing days are at our wits’ ends.
One friend sent a text message yesterday saying she felt like a dormant plant biding its time. And speaking of plants, every room in my house has been invaded by potted plants, making it almost impossible to clean up well or enjoy my living space. The dogs, too, are tired of miserable weather.
We’ve had Christmas. We’ve had our snow. We’ve had countless pots of soup and cups of coffee. We’ve had a heck of a flu season that, according to Centers for Disease Control, is not nearly over.
The good news is that when I got up early this morning to let the dogs out, the yard was vibrating with bird sounds. And then I realized that both the ground and the trees were filled with Robin redbreasts. Without even thinking, I said aloud a line from an Emily Dickinson poem I used to teach, “These are the days the birds come back.”
Then I looked up Robin redbreast and learned that the bird has a rich mythological history, with ties to both Christianity and other religions. It is associated with wisdom and renewal and moving forward.
Thank you, little birds, for reminding me that spring will be here soon.
Marian Carcache welcomes
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