Vernal suburbia

A pair of robins have been hanging around on Holden Street, midway between Shrewsbury Street and the Worcester line, for more than a week. This weekend, we saw a robin in our yard, a half-mile north. The rest of the gang, the grackles and blackbirds and cardinals and mourning doves, are eating voraciously at our feeders. If I kept the feeders full, I bet they would go through 50 pounds in a week.

We're seeing the first noses of crocuses and poppies where the sun has warmed the earth. There are still patches of snow around the yard. The ponds are trying to melt by day, but the freezing temperatures overnight put a fresh, thin coating of ice on the open water. The ice is too thin to support the Canada geese, but the smaller ducks can sit comfortably, if you call sitting on ice comfortable.
So, we're ready for spring, ready to get going on the yard work and living outdoors and all that. Last night, I cooked (or, rather, undercooked) supper on the gas grill on the back deck. Today, March is going out like a lamb, if you call snow and cold wind lamb-like.