The First Song

Sunday morning when I went out to start the car to let it warm up before heading to church, I heard the first spring birdsong of the year. I'm fairly certain it was a tufted titmouse. To hear it, click here and play the little sound track below the photo. I stopped in my tracks and watched the little singer way up in the old sugar maple flit from branch to branch as he called out for a mate. This pause may have been part of the reason I was late to Sunday school that morning. But what northerner could tear herself away from such a beautiful sound?

I stared up at the sky with a dumb smile on my face, thinking of all the little springy signs that would follow this song. Soon we will have our February thaw, which will in turn cause otherwise sensible people to go around in shorts and no coats, despite the fact that it will probably not even get past 36 degrees. This won't last, as we will get snow again in March and likely in April (as always). But it will trick us into bizarre behavior, like trying to sneak the seeds of tender vegetables into the ground, thinking that maybe, just maybe we'll get a jump on our very short growing season. They'll all perish in the ensuing frosts, but I guarantee some overeager gardeners will do it just the same.

But I am a realist. It will be cold and fairly miserable during February and March. So let's just embrace it. Make some "transitional" garments and accessories.

This weekend I crocheted these wristers to go with my blue beret. They're alpaca, so they're warm, but the pattern is full of holes, so they're cool. They're perfect to wear while I'm out tromping around in the woods in March, searching for signs of spring to photograph.

Here's the pattern, if you're interested.