As the sky shifted from blank to blue this morning, I decided to go for my first run in a couple of weeks. I bundled up in tights, long-sleeved tee, hooded sweatshirt, and hat, and headed out. Little did I realize that what looked like a chilly, bleak, early March day was really a warm, sunny almost-Spring day. I began to overheat and ended up running with my sweatshirt tied around my waist.
It occurred to me that the temperature might be similar to what it had been when we were in Florida, where it was unusually chilly. In actuality it was probably a little cooler here, but because we still expect it to be wintery, it felt warmer. Also, here I wasn't surrounded by gently waving palm fronds and other lush greenery, or egrets, painted buntings, roseate spoonbills, and ibises. A cardinal sang briefly amid still-bare branches of a maple, and I thrilled to hear a chattering chorus of goldfinches in a tree near my parents' house. A pair of geese floated in the open river, as well as a lone, lingering bufflehead. It won't be too long before I hear the red-winged blackbird's "conk-a-ree" call from the river's edge or see vultures soaring over Route 105. Tempering my optimism for the shifting season, however, was the view before me of the summit of Bald Mountain still very much covered with snow.
Geese are returning.
I run in just a t-shirt
past snowy mountains.
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