When I was young, my mom and I would sit at the bay window in our kitchen and look at the crab apple tree that stood right outside. It was always filled with birds eating the fruit of the tree. I think that’s why we (my siblings and I) grew up with a love of birds that we still have today. Each year, the first robin red breast would appear and my mother would declare that sighting as the first hint of spring on its way.
Today from my own perch on the third floor, I heard a bird singing. Even though he was atop a tree that was even with my balcony, he was small (but loud for his size) and it took me a minute to focus my eyes on exactly where he was. I’m still trying to figure out how he perched his fluffy, round little body on top of that single, flimsy branch. This may not be a robin, but I’m willing to count him as my first sign of spring to come. (Thanks for posing!)