"If I keep a green branch in my heart, a singing bird will come."
Chinese Proverb
I came across this quote the other day and it really stuck with me. Having heard actual birdsong the other morning, even though it was just one bird who seemed to be calling to his mate, it gave me a reason to start hoping that I was going to hear more birds singing their little hearts out in the near future. Of course, I am as much of a realist as I am a romantic and know that, after over 25 years living in upstate New York, March is the month with a serious identity disorder, flopping back and forth from winter to spring all month long. The worst blizzards I've ever experienced have happened in March in my neck of the woods. Yet I hold out hope just the same that maybe if March comes in like a lion - which today's forecast of rain, high wind advisories and plunging temperatures would suggest - perhaps it will beat a fast retreat and the lamb will come home to stay sooner rather than later.
I find that all my senses "spring" back to life (pardon the pun) at this time of year. Yesterday as I went to pull the curtains closed at the end of the day, I caught that special scent that soil has after a rain, when it has been frozen and buried under snow for so long and has finally thawed out. It is a loamy scent that calls to us old frustrated gardeners and teases us with dreams of snowdrops and daffodils pushing through the soil. My face felt the softer breezes yesterday even in the rain, the kind that kisses your cheeks instead of pinching them with cold. Last night as I was rummaging through my produce bin for a tomato to slice on to my sandwich, I wondered if the asparagus were out yet, that first veggie of the season that heralds spring. My taste buds began to salivate when I thought of the taste of them sauteed with garlic, oil, and some fresh mushrooms over a scoop of penne pasta, just the way I liked them. Each and every one of my senses were telling me: "Hang in there. Spring is almost here."
Maybe we will still get that March snow storm. Maybe that rain outside right now will turn to ice and snow by tomorrow. All I know is that if I keep that green bough in my heart, sooner or later, the singing bird will come.
And so it is.
