I heard him before I saw him; that bubbly gurgle that makes my heart flutter.
For me, the first sign of spring at The Crooked Little House is the appearance of a red-winged blackbird at my feeder. It doesn't matter what the calendar says; we operate on island time anyways. This black beauty was sporting his bright epaulets, precariously perching on the tube feeder, stuffing his beak with sunflower seeds. If he took the time to look below him, he would see the table strewn with seeds.
He's hanging out with a large flock of boat tail grackles who have found the table and the sunflowers and the suet, their green and blue and purple feathers glowing in the sunshine. The morning light has changed too, no sign of winter anymore. Even if it should snow again, this light will not revert back to winter rays.