Robin Signals It Is Time

A puffy red-breasted American Robin on my magnolia tree, the first of the season, alerted me last Wednesday (February 17) that it was time.

Mostly the robin, along with the mockingbird singing on Saturday morning, the crocus blooming in my yard (starting Wednesday), the south-side daffodils already in full bloom when I sought them out on Wednesday, the allergies, and the first Iris reticulata which opened Sunday (Feb. 21), was declaring that it is time for spring.

I also thought the robin might be reminding me that it is time to post about Bird Year beginning, and a sermon Sunday about being protected under the wing of God, the mother hen, made that message very clear.  Some get messages of hope and comfort out of Luke 13:34; I see reminders to blog about birds.

So BIRD YEAR HAS BEGUN.

I will be bird watching, eating birds, listening to birds, reading "bird" books, making duck charcuterie, cheering as the Jayhawks play basketball,  watching bird movies and making all sorts of puns about feathers and flocks and who knows what else.

Of course I'm taking suggestions.

I need to go to bed so I will post more on bird year later (perhaps after you make the suggestions), but think that I should try and articulate the last message I received from seeing a solitary robin on my way to the Convenient Care Clinic to be diagnosed with strep throat, and that is that it is time.

February 17 is too early for spring, even in Western Oklahoma. The robin is here.  We couldn't round up any friends to go to adult prom with us, the order for the Mister's gold vest was unwittingly cancelled and surely there is a better time to wear a sparkly dress.  But I'd been waiting for two years for a sparkly dress occasion-- how much longer am I going to wait?  It was time to wear gold with big hair.  A week later I followed up saffron pudding on Valentine's day with a saffron creme patisserie on baklava because the Mister had given me saffron, I've been watching The Great British Baking Show, and a preacher just reminded me that Sundays are feast days during Lent.  It was time for silly dessert.  It's a year I am presenting at three conferences because they are all when I can go.  That's never happened before and is unlikely to happen again. We're going to both the ballet and the Chinese acrobats in the next week because, well, because we can.  It is time.

The US Women the Royals and the Broncos are all champions.  What are we waiting for? It is time.

Friends are dealing with parents and spouses dying, with scary diagnoses, with changing jobs.  What are we waiting for?  It is time.

Again, I'm back to cliche, and again, I think the cliche is right.  Life is uncertain.  The time for living is now.

The robin wasn't looking at the calendar.  The robin decided to enjoy a glorious spring day, mid-February or not.
The time,

The next morning

Yep, it is all my own hair.

it's now.