By Danny Scerbo
Seriously? Six more weeks of winter? You’re kidding. I’m done. I am so done. I don’t know why people put all of their faith into the one day of the year, the one minute of the year, where a whistling, hole-digging rodent gets to decide whether there will be an early spring or not, but this year I was actually praying that maybe-- just maybe-- Phil might actually see his shadow. After all it is not much to ask.
I ’m sick of putting on the same old bright blue jacket every day, but I do it anyway or else I will actually get sick. I’m sick of shivering the moment I step foot from my porch, but I do it anyway because I have to go to school. And most of all, I’m sick of snow. UGH.
As I hobble up the sidewalk quivering with every breath, I watch where I place my feet, trying to avoid the piles of snow strewn across the ground. I have my uncovered hands shoved into my pockets and my coat zipped up to my chin. I stare down at the cement moving past me every step; my hood is draped over my forehead. For the first time in forever I couldn’t wait to get to school to escape the frozen air engulfing me in its claws. I started to cross the street. This is where I stopped in my tracks.
I stared at the thing, not bothering to look for cars. As if conjured from nowhere, it sat pecking at the asphalt with its pointy bill. It flaunted its rainbow-colored feathers and rose from its position. I stood quiescent, still amazed at the spectacle in front of me. I watched it soar up and away and I hesitated at first, not knowing what to think. Suddenly, I wanted to chase after it. Until it was almost out of sight, I followed the bird. I sprinted into the Nelson’s backyard where it was headed, my feet sloshing onto the wet snow. I was determined to come into contact with it again. The alluring creature (I assumed it was a cardinal) was nowhere to be seen. I needed to know where it was taking me, and I wouldn’t stop looking for it if it was the last thing I did.
Suddenly I came to a crossroads. I took the right path without thought and kept glaring at the treetops to find the elusive bird, but I saw nothing. I started to whistle and call after it, but I heard nothing. I studied the rustling of the trees and bushes, but I noticed nothing. Where is that bird? I pondered. I noticed a dead end ahead of me. I stopped and looked around. There was no sign of the bird, so I turned the other way, taking time to observe every branch on every snow-covered tree. I needed to find that bird.