The Crow Was Playing

I was jogging and it was warm. Over eighty degrees today, the first time this year. Fitting for St. Patrick's day, I could see green sprouting shyly. Like dipping your toe in the bath or the pool to see if the temperature is fitting, green shoots peek out from the dirt slowly to see if this spring will finally overcome the winter.

Sweat stung my eyes as I viewed this changing scape. The birds are a little louder and the breeze doesn't bite. I am thankful and soak up the sun like a basking lizard.
I hear it then, the unmistakable "Caw, caw!" Looking up I see the crow as it calls, and it is swooping and diving, and flying in loops. It continues to call while displaying its acrobatic prowess. Yes, I do believe it sounds giddy. Spring does that to me too.
The earth knows it and displays it. Harsh winter and death give way. I have never heard an animal complain about enduring the winter. It is either life or death for them, and life is about doing what needs to be done. The birds, with their tiny bodies, must revel in the sun that can now warm their wings. And this crow, it seems to sense that the worst is over and better has come.
I smile, continue to jog, myself now giddy at the prospects the changing can bring - and I will look for new life every day.