The "crossed wires" I'm thinking of aren't precisely the type most commonly connected with this idiom. With a tad of poetic license I'm applying them to the mixed messages nature has been sending out in this region. For several mornings the opening stanzas of "the time of the singing of birds" (Song of Solomon 2:12 KJV) rang out very early. We still look forward to the full-fledged chorus when the finches, chickadees, cardinals and robins all join in concert, but the robins were already in amazing voice before sunrise and at dusk. Then came a rude interruption orchestrated by a weather system from the south west.
Strong winds and freezing rain closed down the performance of the most stalwart songsters. Snowdrops, scillas, crocuses, even one brave hellebore, my lone Christmas rose, were encased in ice. Ice and wind also brought down tree branches which literally crossed wires and shut off electricity for many hydro customers.
Once again I realized for sure I have no desire to live in pioneer mode. I highly value all the conveniences electricity affords. This recent episode put nature's expected program on hold, but the concert has resumed. In spite of the disruption, as Solomon declared, flowers do appear on the earth and the time of the singing of birds has come.
Robin photo courtesy of Eleanor McDonald