A sunny day in February
These are few and far between.

The winter winds are out there howling, breathing their last breaths, all around me.

The birds are here,
and me,
all of us rejoicing:

wings beating, songs coming from our broken beaks, faces bent towards the light of the sun.

I think often of a world without winters—the lonesome cold, heartache and dread dragging their suitcases along behind them, uninvited houseguests with no departure date.

A world without winters.

A world without winters, she has a nice ring to her.

But then again, a world without winters is a world without a sunny day in February, no song of relief from the birds’ beaks.

No song of relief from me.

*Originally seen on Instagram