Yesterday I spotted my first hummingbird. The daffodils planted in the center of the roundabout are in full, glorious bloom, or would be if the sun shone on them. The shrubberies are turning lime green as the leaves pop out anew. The lawn is growing and we await dry weather to mow it (I say we, but I mean my hubby.)
I'll be driving around the island tomorrow on the lookout for my favorite sign of Spring--newborn baby lambs. One friend tells me her brood hens have hatched out one chick, with 38 more to go! It's getting to be time to plant peas.
At 6 o'clock the sun still shines, somewhere that is. Not so much here, where clouds persist, and drizzles are the order of most days. On sunny days we rush to wash our cars, and the next day they muddy up again.
Is this enough to make us long for Santa Barbara? Yes, but only in a place to visit sort of way. I love those "markers" of one season melding into another. I'd like a buttery, daffodil, baby-chick fuzzy yellow sweater to wear under my black raincoat. 'Tis March on Bainbridge Island.
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