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A friend
about 80 miles south
announced a week or so ago
that the hummingbirds had arrived.
So, the day the thermometer
registered 77 degrees here,I filled the hummingbird feeders
and hung them on the front porch.
I sat all evening on the porch
in the warm April air,
luxuriating.
A medium-sized black butterfly
with white-edged wings
flittered lightly.
Then yesterday,
the hummingbird feeders
were coated in ice,
as were the trees,
other plants,
fence wire.
The land was laced
in frozen rain drops.

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Rain fell most of the day
(thank goodness)
and the wind blew
and it was cold,
so more ice formed.
But by evening
the rain had stopped,
the wind calmed,
the air warmed just a bit
and ice chips
popped off the limbs,
peppered the ground.
The low clouds
raised almost enough
for the sun to shine
before disappearing
behind the planet.

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This is April.
Our last frost date,
historically,
is next Monday.
Today,
the air is cold,
the sun shines.

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I wonder how the hummingbirds
fared on icy trees—
and when they’ll be
arriving
here.
Their food
awaits.