Spring in Maine...

I have been hurrying the change of season. I hung spring wreaths on the doors and a bright, flowery flag is flapping over the deck.  The calendar assures us that spring is here.

I bought daffodils, hoping they would attract the season with their magnetic cheer.

But outside the backdrop is white on white. Winters last (hopefully!) hurrah is covering any signs of seasonal change with a chilly blanket.

 The ducks seem miserable in the snow, but refuse to stay in their dry hutch, where food and water and deep shavings await them. Instead they forge forlornly about, plopping down every few moments, to (ostensibly) warm their feet.

Little Mr. Bluebird was joined this morning by a lovely female.  He showed her where the meal worms are, and they have been gobbling them all all morning.  He looks forlorn in the snow.

The doves hunker down. This is old news to they who winter here.  They know the cold and snow will lose its grip on us very soon. That warmer days await.  I am hunkered down, too, yearning for reality to catch up to the calendar.