“A Robin said: The Spring will never come,
And I shall never care to build again.
A Rosebush said: These frosts are wearisome,
My sap will never stir for sun or rain.
The half Moon said: These nights are fogged and slow,
I neither care to wax nor care to wane.
The Ocean said: I thirst from long ago,
Because earth's rivers cannot fill the main. —
When Springtime came, red Robin built a nest,
And trilled a lover's song in sheer delight.
Grey hoarfrost vanished, and the Rose with might
Clothed her in leaves and buds of crimson core.
The dim Moon brightened. Ocean sunned his crest,
Dimpled his blue, yet thirsted evermore.”
I took these pictures today on the "un-greenest" St. Patrick's Day in recent memory. I have yet to see a Red-winged Blackbird or Robin in the area even after checking all the usual first places to find them. Then again, I wouldn't wish to see a Robin hopping on the frozen hard lawns in the city right now.
Yet the sun shines hot and bright through the cold air and the days have lengthened out as we approach spring equinox. Finches chatter loudly in the treetops, Northern Cardinals flash noisily in territorial display, Chickadees sing their spring song. And a blue-black Grackle perches high against the bright blue sky, a returning migrant who confirms that Springtime will come eventually.