“There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature-the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”

— Rachel Carson, American conservationist (1907-1964)

“If we had no winter the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.”

— Anne Bradstreet, English/American Colony Puritan (1612-1672)

While drinking my morning coffee and looking out the window, I saw it would be a gray day. The wind was blowing hard against the cedar trees. Its branches swayed like a dancer. Certainly not a day for fishing or doing anything outside. Only a few days prior the temperatures had warmed. The sun shone bright giving the feeling all might be well in our world. Then the rains came and the temperatures dropped again. Momma always said, “Temperatures in the 40s are not warm.” That’s been my guide as to whether or not we’ll be wearing our outside coats. The coffee cup was almost empty when a ray of sunshine peeked out and shone on a redbud tree. The budding tree lit up in its glorious purplish-red blooms against the backdrop of gray leafless trees. For a moment it did seem like all was well in our world. A bit of color, a small surprise, the loveliness of nature and a new season. The promise of spring cannot be far away.

From the kitchen window I saw a pair of ducks land on the little pond. They landed quietly and glided slowly around the perimeter. We’ve had the bufflehead ducks come and go. These were mallards. He was brightly colored with his emerald green head and a white back. She was a pale brown color like a dove. She followed him around as if they were looking for a suitable resting place. I knew they would not stay long. Either we step outside and slam the screen door or a car passes on the gravel road. Sure enough, before our breakfast was finished, they were gone.

In the few days of warm weather, I changed out my closet as I do seasonally. Like most years it was probably too soon but when the season does change, I’ll be ready. In the meantime, I can throw on a sweater, a coat, or something warmer. Organizing is an activity I enjoy, especially come spring. It feels good to have some organization whether it’s the closet or the kitchen or laundry or elsewhere. Come to think of it, my car could use a bit of organizing.

Later Sam stepped out on the porch and leaned back in, “That crow’s nest we saw. There’s a hawk sitting beside it.” He grabbed the camera and I grabbed the binoculars.  The camera and binoculars sit by the door because we do this often.  The hawk looked like a large one. Seeing a big hawk always worries me on behalf of the cats. Sam snapped pictures. It was a pretty bird, with brown feathers and white speckles. The National Audubon Society Field Guide confirmed the bird to be a Red-shouldered hawk, “A large, long-winged hawk with white barring on dark wings, pale underparts barred with rust, and a narrowly banded tail…a shrill scream, kee-yeeear.” As soon as it came, it went, like the seasons, like the rain, like troubles.

Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].