Not too long ago, the weather outside was wet and cold. Old man winter dug his icy fingers into the landscape and spread his cloak across the sky to block the sun.

The mood here in Panther Branch turned from a resolute blue to a dreary gray. But, as I settled in with a good book and a warm pot of my favorite tea, a commotion at the window drew my attention.

Two small birds fluttered onto the bird feeder, chattering and fussing about whose turn it was to grab a snack. At first I thought it was just a brotherly squabble over pecking order by two little dull brown boys, intent on staking a claim to the succulent seeds and grains. After all, raising a ruckus over a full feeder seems like a waste of energy, but perhaps they were new to the neighborhood and had not yet realized that the feeder is bottomless as long as I'm around to remind someone to refill it.

While I watched the avian antics, a shaft of sunlight pierced the clouds, and for one brief instant the flowering apricot tree beyond the perennial border was illuminated. To my delight, I detected a pink halo surrounding each branch. The first buds of spring were straining to burst into blossom. Prunus mume, or flowering apricot, always blooms at least two weeks before other flowering trees, and its rich pink flowers are my gauge, my lifeline to the splendor yet to come.

I raised my teacup and murmured a toast to my harbingers of sunny days and brighter prospects, and, before my eyes, the two little brown birds blossomed too. The chattier of the two became a purple house finch, as a reddish hue washed down from the top of his head to the base of his throat, subtly at first, but the longer I watched, the more pronounced his color became. The other one morphed into a goldfinch, the beginnings of brilliant sunflower yellow plumage ringed his neck and spread along the tops of his wings.

My imagination? Maybe. But in that moment, spring arrived in Panther Branch.

No matter that the weatherman predicted more snow. In a flash of sunlight, my world became new again. The longer I watched, the more birds I noticed parading in and out of the picture like dancers on a stage.

I spied cardinals, bluejays, doves, chickadees, wrens, bluebirds and mockingbirds. Some had been here all along the bluebirds have been spotted harvesting berries from trees and shrubs, and huddling together in their nesting boxes for warmth on colder nights all winter. But many species are arriving from their winter ranges down south, and they're hungry, thirsty and looking for shelter and places to start their new families. I'm so happy to provide food, water and a welcoming landscape in exchange for the pleasure of their company.

We have hanging feeders near windows, on the deck and out in the garden. An abundance of shrubs and trees provides nesting, shelter and natural food sources. A naturalized area of tall grasses gives cover when danger looms (hawks and eagles are frequent flyers in rural skies).

Most important, we have healthy bugs, worms and grubs because we don't use chemical pesticides in our garden. The longer we've maintained our ban on pesticides, the more plentiful the wildlife has become. And the more wildlife we attract, the more abundant and lovely the flowers become.

Life is simpler when nature feels at home. And when she works her magic, it's infinitely more interesting and beautiful.

Get $150+ in coupons in every Sunday N&O. Click here for convenient home delivery.