Searching for signs of spring

After spending a week in a southern climate where flowers were already blooming, I came home to Snowstorm Region to find that the snowbanks had melted away. The next evening, I heard the welcome sound of the spring peepers singing into the dusk. When the little neighbor kids and I went for a walk to look for signs of spring, we found puddles to poke sticks into, mosses growing as they absorb the snowmelt, and the faintest hint of green covering bushes as buds begin to swell.

The cats have been going outside again — thank goodness — now that the snow is gone. The territorial fights of the housebound cats are over for another season, and I can put away the bottle of Urine-off. Yes, we’ve made it through another winter without me killing a feline. That is cause for celebration.

This morning I decided to gather up all the mittens and winter clothes and pack them away. It’s too early, I know, since we always get some snow in April, but I don’t care. I’m tired of the clutter, the piles of mittens spilling out of the shelves in the laundry room and falling into the cats’ water bowl. When it snows, I’ll use my technique of clearing off my car windows with my elbow and forearm, keeping my bare hands tucked inside my sleeves. I refuse to wear mittens any more this season: I’ve decided that spring is here.