The evening grosbeaks have ceased their daily brunch time visits, leaving only the little redpolls and chickadees at our feeder.

It warms up for a few days and the sap starts flowing.  Water pours from the roof, pooling under the snow.  Two days later the lines all freeze and we get another foot.  A night in the low teens followed by three straight days strung together of almost 40, then 4 days where it snows all day long.  The days that amuse me are the ones where it melts and snows at the same time; water overflowing the gutters, snow softly falling from the sky.  Like mother nature is trying to keep the scales evenly balanced.  On other blogs I’ve seen signs of spring.  Here there is still nothing but snow, as far as the eye can see.

There are lambs.  A great many little lambs frolicking about this year.  Out with the sheep it smells like grass.  Grass!  Ok, dried grass, but grass all the same.  And if the sun is shinning and I close my eyes and the wind isn’t blowing too hard, I can almost, sort of, kind of, summon up a feeling like spring might just be coming.  Maybe.