Balance

Spring is sneaking up on me, one tiny step at a time. Yesterday, I heard the first killdeer and the first robins. Late in the afternoon I saw a flock of Canada geese, v’ed high over the cabin and heading north. And yet, the pine siskins are still daily visitors to my feeders, and the two lost little deer are eating my juniper bushes because it’s the only food they can find. The grass is still dead and brown with little sign that it will turn green soon.

The deer are tamer by the day, almost by the hour. On Saturday I drove into the cabin and past the deer, who didn’t move and barely looked up from eating the juniper. I got out of the car, took the groceries from the back, made two trips in and out of the cabin, and still they stood there and ate, not 15 feet away.

Sunday afternoon I went outside for a walk and when I opened the front door, one of them stood at the bottom of the steps, two front feet on the lowest step so it could reach higher on that juniper bush. It did move when I stepped outside but it was in no hurry.

I am poised between winter and spring, neither wholly in one season or the other. Pieces of both seasons surround me in almost equal parts, balanced precariously. Soon the balance will tip and give way to spring. I can’t even imagine how many times this has happened in our earth’s life. The seasons are turning again today, an old tale in a new year.