The Robin’s Are Gone…

Ready, Set, Done!


It’s that time of year when machines take a rest, shouts and clangs from the shop yield to the frigid silence as the men take a well deserved break.

Just about the time the robin’s leave for the winter, my crew follows them.  And I am left alone to face Old Man Winter.

His frosty bite is the only greeting each morning now when I step through the door. That bone chilling wind he throws like a Major League Pitcher, howls in the rafters and sings as it blasts past the  corners of buildings.

His icy hand temporarily turns dirt to rock and water into ice.

My return greeting is to thumb my nose and turn on the heater. Some mornings I even raise my coffee mug as a taunt of defiance to his wind song.

Less than two weeks till I lock the door for the last time this year. Until then, I will argue with him every step of the way.

But what he doesn’t know is- I want him to win.

It’s time to switch gears. From work mode to adventure mode.

Lakes safely covered in ice, mounds of snow in the yard. Sleds, snowballs and ice fishing.

It’s time to unwind and play. About the time the old man’s strength begins to wain, I’ll watch for that first sign of spring to arrive on a southern breeze to chase Old Man Winter back up into Canada.

My dear friend the Robin always tells me it’s time to roust the crew and bring life back into the quiet shop.

I always wondered where they went, and thanks to

angloswiss

Now I know!

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