We won’t miss you.
For the shortest month, February really wanted to leave its mark. We had lows of -5, highs of 11, far too routinely. And I’m thoroughly sick of this view out my office window.
I’m prepared for March to come in like a lion, have no real hope it will go out like a lamb, but it has to be better than February.
I long to see grass, and bulbs popping, buds burgeoning. I’m half mad to open my windows and feel air that doesn’t numb my fingers.
It’s coming. I had a sign on Friday morning when, as happens now and then, a bird bumped into my office window. Then only seconds later–which doesn’t happen now and then–a second bird followed suit. I glanced out, saw several birds on my various rooflines, had a instinctive Hitchcockian shudder.
Then a flock buzzed by. What the hell’s going on?
I looked closer at the couple just below my window.
And since they weren’t trying to break through the windows and Tippi Hedren me, I’m taking this as a sign spring will come.
Later in the day, my granddaughter came over, and through the back kitchen window we spotted a deer–a young one–grazing along on the ridge. Not long after my grandson joined us–and pointed out the side window. The young deer had been joined by a sibling, and they were working their way down, casually grazing on whatever popped up through the snow.
I decided that’s yet another sign–and it won’t be long until I’m chasing them away from my flowers instead of snapping their picture.
I look forward to the chase more than I can say.
Note from Laura: When I had a chance to read The Liar in January all I could think was the book gave me spring. I still think that. And since spring is less than three weeks away and The Liar will be in stores in 45 days, it’s time to share an excerpt. Enjoy!