I Spring for Spring: Dealing with an Angry (and Hungry) Bird

I’m drowning in so much water this winter that I’m starving for spring. This was supposed to be a “La Nina” year, with “La Nina” a drought-like condition compared to “El Nino” years when the rain never stops.  The flowers I saw peeping out of the ground a few places last week in a rare day of full sun are bent, dripping tears from another dousing.

Seems to me the region’s getting colder and wetter for the last couple of years. The Lesser Goldfinches at their tube of Nyjer seed seem to be glaring at me as if I’m causing the bad weather. One of them hung onto the wire hanger of the feeder in stubborn bravery against the whipping rain yesterday afternoon. The bird is hungry, maybe a bit angry, too, at the cloud-beatings it constantly gets.

I’m just blue and cold, and there’s probably a song about this. I’m just ready for spring. I am tired of wearing heavy sweaters and jackets—even my red woollen one. I’m making a list of the things I’ll do when the rain stops for the winter, ushering in spring. I’m not going to clean the house. I’m going to get out of it.