Change is in the air. The return of life shows itself. Beneath matted leaves the evergreen creeping phlox and the tulips emerge. The grackles have returned. The dark-eyed juncos are gathering in greater numbers. And the sun is finally warm to the skin.
As I opened the back door, it was there, the other object of my spring thoughts, on the picnic table, now clear of snow and ice and shelled sunflower seeds. Chip-Chip was back. He was skittish at first, but after a few minutes he re-emerged from the knothole in the deck and checked me out. He then gathered the peanuts I left on the floor. It will probably be a few weeks before he jumps into my lap and settles in for a daily feeding. Maybe not. Then another ritual began. As I fed the chipmunk, the grey squirrel bounded on the deck, expecting to be fed as well.
Some things never change . . .
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