This premature spring is pleasant enough, even though it's out of place in February, and I find myself woolgathering as I sit on the back porch as the balmy afternoon passes. So many birds visit the yard now that the feral cats don't even bother to wake up and stalk them. The early warmth seems to have caught the bees unaware, as well, as I haven't seen any. Of course it might be that the local colonies have all collapsed. It might also be the fact that so much of the orchard at the end of the block has been torn out in preparation for its site's conversion into a public park. The orchard's owners used to import a few hives every spring to pollinate the trees, but that won't happen anymore.
My sleep schedule continues to be totally weird. Last night I fell asleep before half past nine and then woke up before three o'clock in the morning. I ended up taking a nap from about ten in the morning until noon. It's a good thing I don't have any appointments scheduled this week, because stability appears to be a long way off. I do have other things to do, though, and too many of them are going undone. There's a general undoing underway, it seems. What is to become?