Turn, Turn

It just turned 50 degrees, after an almost record low for the date last night.  Out of the darkness...

The doors are open, with only the thin barrier of the storm doors in place, as well as one window.  The cats are very pleased.  For a couple of days, the woodpeckers have been very busy doing what they do, and a few bugs are zipping about.  The squirrel's back and the seedblock is taking big hits.  Daffodils all seemed to get the memo around two days ago, and white, yellow or miniature, they're giving it their all:  a large but whispering chorus singing hallelujah.  The crocuses beat them to it once again, but barely.  The fat red buds that should be on the maples are only a promise yet.  And I, not believing my luck at seeing the rare combination of sunshine without wind, set out in the still nippy morning for the first walk into town in a long time.  There must be more who went boldly on before me, because the thin path I take uphill along Poplar Avenue, outside the civilizing ribbon of sidewalk, is now flattened and wide.  Soon I'll be dodging bicycles, scooters and Harleys as well as SUVs and trucks.  But watch for where people "walk" their dogs!

In the late winter, other changes within view of our front door have been taking place.  In the past several months, at least a half-dozen of the old ladies have sort of disappeared, and their homes gone up for sale.  First you notice the lack of their cars coming and going, or no daily trip to the communal mail station, then you see relative's cars appear and the unloading begins.  After that, the realtor's sign is planted, while remodeler's trucks cluster as carpet is ripped out, and various accessories like outdoor lights and shelves are replaced or discarded.  Younger couples (younger around here means under 60) then show up a day after their moving trucks, usually with two or three cars to replace the old ladies' one.

I didn't even know their names.