Something from an Old JournalThursday, March 24, 2011
This was written almost forty years ago this week, during the faltering presidency of Richard Nixon... but it's still the same story today.
Just when the arrival of robins and redwing blackbirds has convinced us that Spring has arrived as well; when woodchucks stand bolt upright in the middle of the broad meadows, taking in the new season's illumination; when every night reveals Orion dropping lower in the western sky; just then Winter drops its last heavy load of snow.
It is almost as if Winter decided that a show of power was in order, but the nature of the display points up the season's waning strength. The snow is thick and wet, smelling more like Spring rain than anything else. The snow seems a cruel trick to play on the robins, but the birds show no concern.
They do not confuse contrary weather with the steady progression of the seasons.