I saw them the day before yesterday, a flock of robins in our front yard. I haven’t been organized enough to notice if they were here earlier, or to note their first appearance in years past. But there they were on a cold blustery winter day, pecking in our winter-wan grass, nibbling the holly berries and flitting about the leaves and wood pile.

There were more than a dozen of them, with their red breasts and trim beaks. I wondered where they had come from and if they would stay.

It’s too early to think about spring. I know that. But seeing those robins, hearing their call, feeling the warmth in the air this morning as I walked — it all has done my spirit good.