Every day I check the weekly forecast to see if the seventh day will be at least mostly cloudless and maybe a little bit warm. No luck. It could be April before any spring-like day arrives. January was springier than March. Some of the plants are as impatient as I am. Several small bluebells are blooming near the peach tree. These are volunteers, as we've never planted bluebells in the yard. They make the peach tree look even sadder than it is, though. The rough weather has stripped it of most of its blossoms, which emerged prematurely during the warm spell in January. Judging from the handful of blossoms that survive, there won't be much fruit to thin out this year.
One of the approaching storms could feature more of the wind that made last Saturday night a nail-biter. Hour after hour the trees moaned and the windows rattled. I expected the electricity to fail momentarily, but somehow the trees managed to remain upright and refrain from taking out any utility lines. We might not be so lucky on another night.
And when will those poor birds ever get to go home?