A new day. A blue jay.

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My small elementary school in Warrenton Virginia had a rather unusual Friday morning tradition.

One student from either first or second grade would recite a poem he or she had chosen and memorized that week, for all of the lower school to hear during Friday assembly.

I don’t recall the poems I chose. I recall dreading the presentations but not the actual poems.

I do however, recall one that my brother Brett selected as the simple poem has been imprinted on my mind and heart for over twenty years. I was again reminded of the poem this morning when I looked outside and saw Cardinals and Blue Jays eating from our bird feeders, grey sky and wet tree limbs creating stark contrast to their bright feathers.

A new day.

A blue jay.

A new beginning.

One crow-

melting snow

Spring’s Winning.

Admittedly, I did not recall the poet or name of the piece, but the internet says it is a poem called March by By Eleanor Farjeon. And Eleanor was right. Her observations from over 30 years ago still apply to my small city yard, my life, and Life in general.

March begins next week, and frankly I am looking forward to it.

My yard this winter was not totally without life. We did see birds, and signs of the occasional opossum in our compost pile. We watched our dogs chase squirrels along the fence top and bark with great gusto as neighbors walked along the alley behind the house.

No, it wasn’t a long winter. It is simply that we all, animals included, are ready for a new day – melting snow – Spring.

I bought seeds this week to grow green beans.

Plotted where to plant tomatoes in 8 weeks.

Discussed outdoor picnics and events many weeks away.

I poured fresh bird seed in our cold metal feeders and watched as birds came, ate, shook and flew away.

I studied the weather section of the paper for the first time in months. Considered taking my lunch outside until I realized our bench cushions were cold and wet.

It is Friday morning.

Hopefully, a child at Highland School is reciting a poem this morning.

Hopefully, he or she has considered March as one to remember and share with others. I am grateful my brother did.

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