The sunny skies turned gray today
as the temperature began its plummet from 70 degrees
to a predicted 30 overnight.
<sigh>
Despite the cheerful busy-ness of the wrens,
winter has reasserted itself.
I suppose another turn at winter was inevitable,
with true spring still two weeks hence.
But I'll take solace in the words of the poet Shelley:
O, wind. If winter comes, can spring be far behind?
Even if it doesn't feel like it tonight,
I'm sure spring is unfolding around us.
Sometimes you just have to trust the wrens.
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