Sky Watcher

The weeping willows are shrouded with a green mist, my flowering quince has tightly wrapped pink buds that grow fatter each day with the promise of imminent blooms, jonquils appear around town and the forsythia next door is showing yellow. It must be Spring, that long-awaited sprite that tantalizes on capricious chilly winds warmed by tentative sunshine. I have been waking earlier as my bedroom window lightens right on time for the Daylight Savings that goes into effect this weekend. All undeniable signs of the changing of the season.

Yet another natural disaster of record breaking proportions has happened overnight with Japan’s devastating earthquake and tsunami. Yes, we have always had earthquakes, but they are escalating in frequency and intensity, as are storms, floods, extremes of temperature and other weather related troubles. Many see these events as part of the sorrows, or “birth pangs,” that Jesus refers to in Matthew 24--an apt application, as labor pains are at first infrequent and erratic, then with shorter elapsed time between each pain that grows ever stronger.

Jesus gives a rebuke in Matthew 16:2-3 when He says, “When it is evening, ye say, It will be fair weather: for the sky is red. And in the morning, It will be foul weather today: for the sky is red and lowring. O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?”

Another sure sign of Spring is the proliferation of robins the past few days. They are everywhere! All over town I see them sitting, as if deep in thought and solemnly considering where to build that new nest this season. Before we know it, gem-blue eggs will give way to fledglings that fly away.

The mother eagle makes the nest uncomfortable when it is time for her youngsters to make their exit. She removes the downy lining she has placed there to protect the tender, naked hatchlings from the sharp sticks and brambles of construction. But now they have grown and are fully feathered. They have no choice but to find relief by perching on the edge of the nest, where they fall or are nudged into the blue beyond. It seems to me our nest is getting a little uncomfortable, and that we may soon fly away.