....how isolating Winter really is. I find I never fully realize it until the thawing begins. Then, as the earth awakens, so do my senses and my social life. Neighbors I haven't seen for literal months suddenly materialize and have time to linger by the mailbox, stop by the open garage door and catch up on how we've been.

Smells begin to stir in the warming air; somebody's supper cooking near a slightly open window has never seemed so intense and so welcome. And the dead soggy grass, soured by months of stagnation, has never seemed so unavoidable and unappealing.

Sounds, too, that have long been muted and muffled by the constant blanket of snow roar into life. I can hear the neighborhood children playing and airplanes flying overhead, the distant hum of the freeway and, of course, the sweet, sweet melodies of the returning Robins and Finches, Larks and Blackbirds.

Somewhere in my mind is a vague recollection that last fall I was sick of all that noise and commotion. Back then I was ready for the respite provided by the cold, quiet solitude of Winter. But I've had my fill. Dormancy need last only so long. And like a traveler, sensing in the foreign wind the familiar call of home, I ready for a return to life.