There's a country saying that goes: it's not spring until there have been three snows on the crocuses (some say four). I saw my first crocuses a couple of weeks ago on my way into a concert hall for a children's program. But that was in Charleston, West Virginia. We've got a while to go yet in upstate New York before we can declare spring. By the time we become April fools, some of St. Patrick's green may have transferred here and there to the bushes and trees, the vernal equinox will have reminded us of the importance of balance, and the spirit of rebirth and resurrection might be what guides us on our journeys. My journey with Common Thread (Karen Sutherland, Shari McMahon, Mark Sustic and me) is from March 28th through April 15th. It'll take us into homes, hospitals, town halls and orphanages to share music with folks living in the Transylvanian Mountains of Romania. We're told to expect cold, snow and mud. Sounds familiar. When I get back I'm sure I'll have a few stories to tell. And it might even be spring.

Platoon of bluejays
Makes the neighborhood aware
Hunger is constant

Hairy woodpecker
Takes off from a frozen branch
Full for the moment