Last evening Paul pointed out the two robins hopping around the neighbor's yard - they seemed a little confused by the patch of lingering snow. But I was glad to finally see the birds whose song I've been hearing the last week or so.
I intended to get out this week and snap a picture of the snowdrops poking out of the snow - but by the time I actually went out with the camera, the snow was gone, and all that was left were the snowdrops. Nestled up against the house, they often bloom through a bit of snow or ice; the first indicator of spring. The resiliency of nature.
And then this morning, it had snowed again. So I could go back out and get another picture. But I probably won't.
Such is spring in central New York - winter one minute, spring the next, with an occassional blast of summer thrown in just to keep you on your toes.