robins plucking crabapples—
so cold, so tart!
ruddy breast feathers,
not quite red; nor frozen
like that elusive fruit
managing an escape,
for now,
to snowy ground below
while those robins
calmly keep to the trees
…
Sarah and I are not used to living somewhere where the robins stick around through winter. It’s odd to us, because in northern NY and southern NH where we each grew up, the robins flew south in late fall. Not here though, apparently Minnesota robins are a tougher breed and can handle harsh winters. Previously the robins offered signs of spring being right around the corner when seeing them in the latter stages of winter. Here, they instead bolster our fortitude and remind us that cold weather really isn’t all bad.
What will be our new harbinger of spring?
