I’m watching snow scatter along the lane. It feels like winter has finally, really arrived. As the snow falls, my mood goes with it. Need a little lift, little hope of spring. An Eastern Meadowlark fits the bill.
Just as the sudden appearance of American Robins is a sure sign of Spring, so their abrupt disappearance quietly heralds Fall. There are mid-winter days when I hike local wood lots and stands of trees, looking for loose flocks of wintering Robins. I watch them, muddy ice caked on my boots, until I’m reassured of Spring’s return.