Spring

We all woke to another morning of steady snow. This isn't the photo I took from my favourite window, but it will do just as well.

The sparrows might regret their life in these northern wastes. If they could feel regret. I've noticed them gathering with hilarity in a still leafless -- now snow-crowned -- bush, their mating hormones cheering them just enough. They don't notice there is nothing they can get to and eat. The gulls were skreeking overhead because they couldn't see any garbage, only white drifting snow. I worry. How many of the little morons will succumb?

Once, many years before me, I am told, the snow came again with the new leaves. That summer, only the conifers were green. Had it happened again the next spring, the deciduous trees would all have died. That is the way the Green World ends: we wither into Apocalypse. Happy Earth Day.