There are times during the year when you know there’s hope.

For me, one of those times is the first signs and sounds of spring. After a rather long and cumbersome winter, a sound of hope springs forth in the first songs of birds.

As I was walking along a local street recently, I heard the call of a bird. The song hadn’t been heard in over six months, but I know it came from a robin. I tried to locate the bird, but it kept hiding from me. Eventually, I continued my walk, and was greatly satisfied to have heard the bird’s song.

Birds have always fascinated me. I don’t know why that interest inhabits me, but ever since I was a wee lad, I would watch them fly and interact. Do they talk to each other in their callings or are they like humans beings with many languages? Does one robin understand the singing of another robin?

Perhaps the thing to do is not think about such questions so much, but just enjoy the beauty of each bird and its song.

Likewise, maybe we shouldn’t over think a wine, but just enjoy it. At one time, I got a bottle of Napa Valley’s Duckworth Cabernet Sauvignon. It carries a hefty price tag so tasting it was special. Or, was it? The wine is very complex with heavy black cherry tastes layered with oak and high tannins. I enjoyed the song of the wine.

Going back to spring and its other songs…

Today I saw tulips poking up from the ground. There’s a sign of hope! Soon we will not only see the plant’s green leaves, but also the beautiful flowers that will sing to us and offer us a sense of peace.

Now, back to birds…

We are honored here to be able to walk along Old Man River, and see a bald eagle float above us. As we know, they are now our official national bird, and along with protecting our nation’s rule of law, we must ensure those eagles float forever.

When I was younger, hunting pheasants was taken for granted. Just before the hunting season began, I would take out my old .410 gauge shotgun from the locked gun cabinet and polish it in preparation for opening day. I never really loved the sport, but I justified my hunting by saying it helped put food on the family’s table.

Then, one day a pheasant jumped up in front of me, and I could hear its song and see it’s gorgeous colored feathers. I still can see that innocent bird collapsing as my shotgun pellets hit it.

At that moment, I ended my bird hunting forever.

Today, I do enjoy seeing wine labels with birds on them. During a recent meander through an awesome liquor store, I saw a wine that hadn’t graced my taste buds for a long time. The label shows two birds looking at each other as they sit on branches of a tree. The wine is a Furmint from Tokaj, Hungary named Ǝvolůció.

The peachy aromas are very subtle, and the wine’s taste is softly floral and light peach. So easy to drink as you wonder what the two birds are talking about on the label.

Wouldn’t it be interesting to be able to sing back to all the birds around us?

There’s always hope!

As always, eat and drink in moderation but laugh with reckless abandon!

Cheers!