And so it begins...

It begins with skeins of of geese flying in high from the deep south and singing their return, with many happy splashings in local waters and ducks quacking in roadside puddles, with a single heron standing on the ice in the river and (no doubt) wondering what brought her home so early in the season.

It continues with larks and killdeer, beaky snipe and woodcock, with a handful of plucky robins, the graceful "v" shape (dihedral) of five turkey vultures soaring majestically over the Two Hundred Acre Wood and rocking effortlessly back and forth in their flight. Seen from below, the light catches their silvery flight feathers and dark wing linings, and the great birds are as magnificent to me as any eagle.

Then a solitary goshawk perches in a tree on the hill, and a male harrier goes looping over the western field in graceful circles. Both birds are hungry after the long journey home and are training their fierce eyes on the withered grasses intently.

This morning, there is a male cardinal singing his heart out in the ash tree, and an unidentified spring warbler lifts its voice somewhere in the darkness.

There is gladness everywhere, and even the soft rain is a friend.