Wednesday, February 18, 2015


Winter mornings are starting to sound like spring. Robins harmonize in the cottonwoods while sparrows sing background vocals from the Russian olives. But I can't quite make out the lyrics. Perhaps the melodies are gospel, country, rock, bebop, or even sappy love songs. Be My BirdyWormy Fields Forever? I Fly the Line? Sittin' on the Fork of the Branch? I'll Fly Away?

The only thing I'm sure of is that no one in those trees is singing the blues. 

"My favorite weather is bird-chirping weather." ~Terri Guillemets

1 comment:

  1. My husband has thought at least one morning was like spring, but for a Georgia girl moved to OH, even the bird can't fool me into thinking it is anything like spring yet here!