The Only Way Out Is Through

Finding hope in Colorado's spring messengers

At this time of year, I look out for two signs of spring in Colorado: baby cows and robins.

We’ve got fields of cows aplenty in Boulder County, and calves first appear like little black splotches on the ground next to their mamas. You have to look twice to spot them when they’re first born, but when I see them, I know spring is truly on its way. Eventually they turn into gangly creatures who stumble around on wobbly legs, and that’s fun to watch, too, but it’s those first sweet sightings in the grass that really raise my spirits.

Then there’s the robins. When I see the first one of the year, it makes me break out in a huge smile.

I had an aunt whom I absolutely adored. Her name was Gail, and I swear to god, she had magic powers. She took me and my sister and cousins to kids’ movies. We made Christmas cookies with her. And best of all, she always listened to us like we had something important to say. She was basically just the greatest human being in the history of the world.

She died over two decades ago, and I miss her. A lot. I would give anything if she could meet The Blond One. They would adore each other.

Gaily used to count the first robins every spring, and she taught me to do the same. They’re such a happy sign.

She'd count one at a time until she got to 10. I still do the same every year.

I see the first one, and think of Gail, and every few days I see another one. Each time I'd think about how happy those birds used to make her.

Maybe the robins kind of hold her spirit, or some other new age stuff. It's like she's paying me a visit. Like she’s still with me, cheering me on, and that maybe she’d like adult Beth almost as much as she liked little Bethy.

---

This year the winter seemed interminably long. I’ve been going through some things, the kind of things that involve a fair amount of deep breathing and saying “The only way out is through.”

So the recent warm days have been a welcome respite from the cold and gray. And I was longing to see that first robin. I’ve been looking and looking on my walks with Moose, but for the past few weeks I’ve come back disappointed.

Then finally. Finally. I saw four in quick succession on a gorgeous sunny afternoon this week, and I felt relieved and heartened. I have made it through another Colorado winter.

I wanted to get a picture of the first one, but the little guy flew away before I could get close enough. But no matter. I saw him, and spring is coming.

Baby cows and robins mean hope in my world, and the possibility that I'm going to keep darkness at bay for another couple of months. On the other end of the current pain is strength and growth and bloom.

And that’s enough to keep me going. Because my aunt Gaily is still cheering me on. And I can’t let her down.

Photo by Skyler Ewing on Unsplash