The birds seem certain that spring is coming. They are moving through my little town in unexpected flashes of wings I haven’t seen in months, or perhaps more than a year. Surely, as with every year, they passed through in that strange March when everything changed. If they did, I was huddled inside more attuned to my television than birdsong. I wouldn’t have known. It is time to step outside and remember. It is time for so many things to begin again. And I am ready.