There’s a bluebird on your windowsill, there’s a rainbow in your sky…

Every time I see a bluebird I think of three things: that song, spring, and chocolate.

When I was a kid, my mom had a deal with us that the person that saw the first bluebird of the year got a chocolate bar. This was a big deal for us as chocolate was hard to come by in our house (which probably helps explain the stashes of it I have hidden in my house now). But it also meant that spring had really and truly arrived. Many a barn swallow or purple martin was mistaken for a bluebird – there always had to be someone else to vouch for the fact that we’d actually seen the bluebird.

The past few days here I’ve been dealing with the winter blahs. It’s been cold (by Virginia standards, not Alberta standards) and windy, but more than that I think I’m just so tired of no leaves on the trees, no colour, no warmth.

Today on my walk this little guy landed on a branch in front of me and started singing. He let me get right up to him before he flew a few feet ahead sang to me again. This went on for quite a while. I was actually starting to feel kind of like I was in a Disney movie – walking through the woods with birds singing at me. I was looking at him while he was serenading me and thinking “he sure looks like a bluebird. It must be one of those barn swallows again.”

I came home and double checked in my bird book. Sure enough, it was an Eastern Bluebird, which is different from the Mountain Bluebird that I grew up looking for,  and apparently they live year round here. But, whatever. I’ve never seen them in the winter, and I’m taking it as a sign of spring.

here he is singing to me from one of the branches. The picture’s not very good because it was SO cold and the dog kept tugging on her leash to keep going

Day 12 of the 44 days of happiness was brought to me by my Bluebird. I want to say thank you to him for singing to me the joys of spring.