I know Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow a few days ago.  It was pouring rain here in Seattle.  His prediction of six more weeks of winter was easy to believe.  But, this morning I heard a Vesper Sparrow.

It is the first birdsong I’ve heard since October, when the southern migration breezed through Washington.  I think Vesper’s usually head north again in March, so I am heartened by the prospect of spring being on step closer.  And the Cherry trees along my street seem heartened, too.  Faint pink buds have opened to the last two days of intermittent sunshine.

I adore winter, don’t get me wrong.  Frost and snowfall.  Cozy fires and candles at five in the afternoon.  But spring is always inspirational in the anticipation of what’s to come: longer days; fires in the fire pit; warm nights on the patio; a swim in the lake….weeding, mowing, painting, fixing. 

Ah, anticipation. 

Isn’t that always the best part of life?  The fantasy of wanting is always more perfect than the reality of having.

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