R is for Robyn.
This past winter’s single digit temperatures robbed me and my dogs of our daily walks. When I did brave the elements that held on with white-knuckled tenacity, I could hardly call it a walk. Even the month of March went out like a lion, biting at my legs, gnawing at my cheeks. No relief in sight.
Then the robins came.
My limbs were stiff but my heart danced with joy—the intrepid robins were everywhere—trumpeting the gallant victory call—spring was around the corner!
Winter’s sleep is awakened by the promise of a life-giving spring. We know this, but we forget when we are paralyzed by the cold. If we can hang on until the robin comes, we’ll see the sure sign—the harbinger brings the promise of warmth and renewal.
One of my main characters is named Robyn. She is much like the bird—sent to herald a new beginning. But my Robyn must learn courage before she can bring the morning to a world gripped by midnight.