On Shelter Island, we don’t have to wait for truly warm weather or notice the yellow signal flares of forsythia to tell us winter is a memory. We’ve witnessed spring on the wing with the arrival of the magnificent fish hawks, the ospreys, returning from their Florida and Caribbean winter quarters.
A smaller winged harbinger has come home, too. Piping plovers have been spotted with their melodious penny whistle voices and mad dashes across beaches foraging for food, or skimming low across the water, shifting in formation.
Emily Dickinson was right: “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul …” It’s not some abstract concept, or a metaphor, but true when we see robins strutting across lawns before stopping, chests out, solemnly posing for us. (more…)