My husband knows that around January 1st of each year I come down with a fever. Not just any fever. Spring fever. And the only thing that can bring me out of it is some sign that winter is coming to an end. It might be the first bunch of daffodils poking out of the ground or the smell of the gulf air coming in on a southerly breeze. Or, it could be the sound of the first red wing black birds returning from their winter sojourn.
This winter has been warmer than usual and we still have large flocks of robins hanging around.
For that reason, I was not overly suspicious when I came home from my Saturday morning errands and heard the unmistakable sound of a red wing black bird. I put the groceries on the counter and ran to the window to see if I could spot him. Then I heard a few more and I figured it was a late flock passing through and maybe resting in our trees, although I couldn’t see any. It wasn’t until I started hearing frogs and crickets that I finally realized what it was. My husband had put on a bird/nature song CD for me. It was just loud enough to kind of sound like it was coming from outside. And he was no where to be found. At first, I admit, I was a little disappointed that it wasn’t an early return of the red wings. But then I started laughing at myself for being duped and smiling because he had gone to so much trouble to ‘cure’ my fever.