Call me Anat.

Two weeks ago I saw my first robins of the season, and the mourning doves, silent all winter, began to sing.  10 days ago I saw red-wing blackbirds.  A week ago I saw juncos.  On Sunday I saw snowdrops, some of them blooming in the midst of ice.  This morning I heard a flock of Canada geese returning north.

Bigger and bigger patches of dead grass appear every day, especially on the south-facing slopes.  The streams and rivers are running muddy and loud.

After a long and unusually snowy winter in Vermont, spring - even when it comes so slowly - brings a kind of hard joy.  Like you could rejoice in the face of anything.