Springtide Signs

Toronto is currently enjoying a sunny Sunday that is treating everyone to a balmy five degrees Celsius. I headed out for a walk to celebrate, to look for signs of spring making a return.
As I strode along the sidewalk, bareheaded, my pace and the sun soon conspired to have me loosening my jacket at the throat. That was the first sign, since winter weather around here generally has people turning up collars and huddling 'neath fur lined hoods. The leftover sand used to give better footing in the winter still has the sidewalks feeling gritty under each footfall, and little patches of icy snow hang on grimly, hiding in the shade and fearing for their lives as the sun hunts them out. The earth seems bound and determined to usher in the new season.
During my perambulation, I passed others of my own species five times. Each and every time, the others averted their eyes as we drew near. The first two times, I called out "good morning", nevertheless. Neither person responded, so the next three times, we passed each other in total silence. How sad that seemed to me. Just after I passed the last uncommunicative human, I rounded a bend and came upon a robin, standing to my right, regarding me with its head cocked to one side. It stayed its ground, and I halted my progress, to return its look. Immediately I came to a stop, it opened its beak and greeted me with a bright, trilling greeting that seemed to say "ignore the humans - simply be happy". I returned its greeting with a "good morning" wishing my english utterance could come with a much more mellifluous deliverance to match its own. Still, I was glad to have shared a greeting with someone. Shortly after, my steps took me to a point on my route where the sidewalk is closest to an adjoining ravine. There, a whole cadre of cardinals were laying down a veritable blanket of song, covering everything near them with their glad notes. I stopped again, just to listen. As I stood, transfixed by the glorious paean, I realized I was just across the street from a most interesting triad of trees. Two evergreens flank a deciduous tree there. The firs were resplendent in their robes of olive and jade, while the deciduous looked so forlorn between them, bare branches stretching up to the overturned bowl of the sky that arched its brilliant blue above them. Each branch of the middle tree was a gnarled limb lifted in supplication to its creator, beseeching her to swell its buds again and clothe it once more in verdant glory, so it could feel equal to its lordly neighbours.
I returned home from my walk this morning, my mind filled with images of the promise of a season about to burst upon us with warmth and new life. As much as I have loved the winter while it graced us with its presence, may the spring be here soon.