I thought winter was over.

February here in the Berkshires was delightful.  Sparse smatterings of snow just here and there in amongst the trees.  The fields were completely brown just waiting for spring to sprout new grass.  We had the return of a pair of bluebirds apartment hunting.  They flew from one bird house to another. The male would peek inside, sometimes go in and see how it felt. The female would sit atop the house surveying her surroundings, then she would fly to another house and the male would follow her repeating his pattern of assessing the accommodations.  One day in late February, I heard the song of the red-winged blackbird; a most wonderful sound heralding warmer weather and the return of spring.  Two days later, a common grackle made his presence known by visiting several of my bird feeders along with the juncos, American goldfinches, chickadees and blue jays.  And then, as if withou warning, March came in blasting us with a severe Nor’easter, leaving us buried beneath 22 inches of snow.  This to be followed by two more heavy snowstorms.  The bluebirds have taken temporary leave of us, but the grackle hangs on with the promise of an ample supply of seed in the feeders.  Daylight savings time has arrived and I live with the knowledge that spring really cannot be far behind.