Spring is coming. I heard it the other morning tapping at my bedroom window as its scout blew in on a cool morning breeze checking out conditions before it comes to stay permanently. It whispered against the cold pane of glass promising me that chilly days are about to end.

I am more anxiously awaiting the change of season this year, more ready for the signs that announce its arrival. It’s been a harsher than normal winter and, to me, it seems a long one.

“My feet have been cold since November,” I said to my husband the other day. “I’m ready to feel warm again.”

Most everywhere I go and most everyone I talk with feels the same way.

“I’m tired of this cold weather. I wish it would warm up. I’m so ready for spring,” is what I’ve heard more times than I can count.

The other night we tuned in to hear what the weatherman had to say about the possibility of a warm up.

“We will see temperatures in the upper 60s by the weekend,” he said. “A few places might even hit the 70 mark.”

Oh how good that sounded.

“Wow up to almost 70,” I said to my husband. “I can’t wait for it to get warmer.”

Then I started laughing as I remembered having almost exactly the same conversation not that many months ago. Only then, I begged for cooler weather.

I recall watching the weather report and hearing the same expected temperatures, but with another slant.

“We will see temperatures only in the upper 60s by the weekend.”

And, how good that sounded, but for a different reason.

“Wow, down in the 60s,” I said. “I can’t wait for it to get cooler.”

Funny how our perception changes with the seasons. We long for cool when it’s hot, hot when it’s cold and the same temperature fits either longing – it’s all in how we perceive it at the time.

However, that is neither here nor there because spring is coming even if the nights still feel cold and my heater still runs full throttle to ward off the chill.

The bridal wreath is budding. A bird choir of robins, blue jays, red birds, chickadees and wrens sing about spring each morning as they go about their nesting business. Blades of soft green peek through the brown grass stretching awake after a long winter sleep.

There may be another spell or two of cold before March breezes and April showers shake off winter’s hold, but the end is in sight. Before we know it, the fashion will change from sweaters and coats to shorts pants and short sleeves.

How wonderful to feel sun on my bare arms and warm sand beneath my toes. How sweet to smell jasmine and honeysuckle.

My heart will sing. My spirit will laugh and run and sore with birds as they float among the wonderful puffy clouds in a bright blue sky. I will rejoice in the season, revel in the warmth until late summer arrives with what is often its oppressive heat.

Then I’ll sit listening anxiously for fall’s scout to tap out a message of its impending arrival on my windowpane. I’ll wait for the weatherman to announce a dip to the 60s.

But for now, spring is coming. It’s singing outside my window and I’m humming along with the song.