The sun came out again on Friday, bursting forth from the clouds and causing the snow to melt from everywhere but in the shadows. Although the birds aren't singing and the temperature only reached the 40s, it felt like spring.

I was walking through the half-thawed muck that always follows after a particularly long-lasting snow, my shoes sinking in the sodden grass Even so, it felt good to be alive and to have a little sunshine on my back.

I was trying to remember the last time I walked outside without a coat on, but couldn't. All I know is that it felt like it had been too long. Something about the sunshine just makes me want to smile inside, like the end of a hard rain followed by a rainbow.

I remember one time I was riding my motorcycle toward Winston-Salem and a hard shower came out of nowhere. The rain was pelting into me and quickly had me soaked, everywhere but under the helmet.

It was one of those fall days when it is plenty warm to ride a motorcycle if you are dry and dressed properly, but not a very appropriate time to ride wet at 65 miles per hour.

I soon came to an overpass and stopped the bike on the side of the road, thankful to be out of the rain. I soon had my helmet off and my extra clothes bag out, which I always carried with me. I kept a towel inside, a change of clothes wrapped in plastic and other essentials for such a trip. It was in a duffel bag underneath a nylon web that held it to the back of my ‘queen seat,' which was abdicated at the time.

After drying off somewhat with the towel and wiping off my seat, I just leaned back on the bike and watched the cars go by. Swish, swish, swish. I was back off the road far enough to where the mist off the big trucks didn't really bother me, only the noise.

After about 30 minutes, which seems much longer when you are sitting under an overpass, the sun started peering out from behind the clouds, as if it were peeking down on the earth to see what was happening.

Soon, as I set off again on my journey, I saw a giant rainbow, appearing to connect the back of a big glass building to a small group of trees on the other side of the road. The sun soon came out full force, warming my black jacket and helping me to forget the rain that had me shivering just a little while earlier.

I had just such a feeling that day. A feeling of ease, like everything is going to be fine. The kind of feeling you get from the relief of a persistent cool breeze on a hot day. Perhaps God sent me this day like a hug.

There is no appreciation for a day like that any other time of year, but in February, it is golden.

In the spring or fall, a day like that is just another day. In the summer, that same day would be a fiasco. But right now, it is the perfect time for sunshine and 40-something.

The snow has been on the ground for so long now, I can barely remember what the ground looks like beneath it. The sun was helping to make it all melt away, at least until it snowed again on Sunday. Oh well, maybe we'll have warmer weather as the week goes on. To think that I saw my porch for the first time in weeks just a couple of days before, the brown-stained boards a stark contrast to the snow above.

I was glad to see them after spending the last few weeks crossing from the door to the steps like a tightrope walker, my arms to the side and my feet everywhere. The driveway, which also made excellent progress, was nearly as dangerous.

Since it is situated on an incline, it takes quite a bit of patience to get up it in my car. I found myself heading back up the road to get a running go, charging up the little hill, but not too fast, lest I crash into the house or the truck. Finding footing to make it into the house with an armload of whatever also can be interesting, taking little duck steps across the frozen wasteland.

To help things along on the porch, I bought a new box of table salt and poured it in a trail across the ice to the steps, which I had already cleared earlier. With much popping and cracking, the salt buried deep. By the next afternoon, the ice had loosened up enough so that I could easily shovel it away. However, it again was covered with the latest snow. So much for progress.

I managed to finish all the work on the place in the woods Saturday. I was pleased with myself for getting it done. Now I have located a home here to buy and I am in the process of trying to make that happen. I feel sure I will stay busy getting it fixed to suit my purposes. One more task checked off the list, two more added on — the story of my life.

On the way out for lunch Friday, two bright red cardinals landed in a small tree in front of me. The red berries on the tree, coupled with the birds' plumage, made me wish I had a camera in hand. That's the way cameras are, they don't ever seem to be on hand when you really need them the most.

At lunch, a friend queried, "Why do you think UFO sightings have gone down since everyone in America has a camcorder?"

"I bet it has something to do with the fact that they probably just don't have them ready at the right time," I said, thinking of the cardinals.

I don't really believe in UFOs either, but that's not the sort of thing I wanted to ponder. I preferred to give a perfunctory nod now and then as I looked out the window in search robins and daffodils.

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