a scent of spring

I pondered a day of house cleaning that I promised myself would happen today. Bleary-eyed and sipping my coffee this morning, I heard them. Little twitterings out back. And there, at the bird house on the oak tree by the patio was a pair of sparrows flitting about. A tiny beaked face peered back at me from the hole.

Now, as I type, the welcome sun streams in and and bathes my back. I've cracked open the window for the first delicious, fresh-from-the-outside, could-it-be-coming, spring-sweet air.

Last year we endured 23" of snow the first weekend in March. So while I have no delusions that spring is near, when sparrows are checking out real estate and sunny skies usher in 50 whole degrees, I have hope. Hope in the fact that the salt, grit, snow-matted grass and naked trees are only good for a few more weeks.

Come on, spring!