My dad and I played a game every winter.
Who would see the first robin?

Dad knew the robin was the harbinger of spring, the forerunner announcing that the bleak, cold days of winter would end.

Better days were coming.

In early years of playing this game, Dad always won.

As I grew, my competitive side kicked in, as Dad knew it would.
I’d start watching for robins right after Christmas.
I knew it was too early.
But I looked anyway. I wanted to be the first to see the red-breasted song bird.
And I kept looking as Michigan winters plodded on.

Michigan Winters are great!

Did I hear someone groan, out there?

Okay, okay.
Michigan Winters might elbow into Spring’s time slot.

Okay, sometimes Michigan can skip right over Spring

and slide through Summer

with us jamming both feet on the brakes before we
skid past Fall

and come crashing right back into Winter before we’re ready.

I know. I know.
Sometimes one might long for those boring weather forecasts of: sunny, high of 80, today, tomorrow, and every day this week, month….

I will admit that’s a tempting change from Michigan…

But Michigan weather and seasons do have their benefits:

  • You always have something to talk about, weather is always a great conversation starter
  • It keeps our brains sharp, having to plan what accessories we’ll need before leaving the house….
    Shorts or long johns? Coats or sunscreen? Boots or sandals? Hat, gloves, scarves, or swimsuits? Shovels, umbrellas, or ice skates?

Admittedly, winter is the most challenging season to get through in Michigan.
Dad knew this.

Like life, winter seasons aren’t always fun.
It’s tough and seemingly unending.

That’s why Dad and I eagerly watched the leaden skies and leafless trees for a glimpse of the red-breasted bird.
Once sighted, we knew it wasn’t long before the robin’s song would echo before the dawn through the tops of budding trees.
Their warbling voices cheering us into spring and a new cycle of life.

Through example, Dad taught me to keep a sharp lookout for these harbingers of hope.
Not only in nature’s seasons, but along life’s way.
Harbingers always come, subtle and quiet.
Waiting for someone to notice.

Dad taught me to keep looking for the good; in everyone, in every place, and in every season.
It’s there.
You just have to look.

As I grew, it didn’t really matter who saw the first robin.
Dad and I rejoiced together for the sighting.
Goodness would soon come flocking in.

February Blew By!

I raced through February on my annual Picture Book Marathon. 
Ran past the groundhog’s forecast of spring. 
Jogged through tales of historic Black Americans.
Lingered long in expressions of love. 
Cheered and clapped as teams blocked and blazed their way to touchdowns.
Skated, skied, twisted and twirled, with U.S. Olympians in Beijing.
Shoveled snow, enjoyed unexpected puddles before they crystalized to ice.
Then with a nod to past presidents’ birthdays I skid to a halt.
Teetering on the edge of February 2022, I pause.

What wonders will March bring?

Batches of paczki?
Emerging crocuses defying the snow?
Shall I trade snowflakes for shamrocks; drifts of snow for bundles of green?
Will lion-like winds lift kites wildly on high?
New life emerges all around.
New possibilities to explore.
Clutching my newest story in hand I wonder…

Good-bye, Fantastic February. 
It’s time to meet Marvelous March!