The First Day of March

Grandma Stella recounts a quiet, chilly morning on the first day of March, where she is awakened by a lone bird’s song before drifting back to sleep.

I am sitting in the armchair in our bedroom. My eyes were closed and I was half asleep. Suddenly, through the tightly shut windows and the drawn curtains of this, the first dawn on the first day of March, I hear a lone bird tweeting away. With my eyes still closed, I listen. The ground is still lightly covered with snow. It is cold. The skies are still dark. The world is still asleep. What is that silly little bird singing about? As I think that, the bird stops singing. I imagine its mother saying, “Hush! It is not morning yet. Go back to sleep.” With that, I too drift back into dreamland. When I wake up the next time, the skies are beginning to lighten. I feel chilled. I groan as I rise from the armchair and get back into bed…