It was about -7 (F) on the thermometer this morning (-20 wind chill) when I got up. I had coffee, some cereal and drove off in shorts and a jacket – in the dark – to the local Fitness Center.  I groaned through a couple of sit ups and a few minutes on the bike and came home for some jelly donuts. I pulled in the driveway and walk back to the curb to get our recycling bin.  The grey fingers of dawn were struggling to come alive. I’m pulling the bin up the driveway and I see something on the lawn. I walk over and pick it up.  It is a golf ball. A Titleist “range” ball.  Brand new.  How it got there – I have not a clue.  I have never found a golf ball on my lawn before.  

I gazed up at the sky.  A faint shade of blue.  Then at the ball.  And I concluded that this “find” has to be a harbinger of spring – which I am very much anticipating.  I mean why wait for a %#&*!@ groundhog. . . .
                                                                                                                                                I walked in the house – Donna was at the kitchen table finishing breakfast. “I found something” I said.   “Hold out your hand.” And she did.   Fortunately Donna has known me long enough to know that I’m not going to drop a worm or cricket or mouse in her palm – so she accepted the ball from my closed fist.   “A harbinger of spring” I said.   She inspected the ball, smiled and peered out at the thermometer.  “Fat chance” she said.