Seeking spring
Spring always
reminds me of a really good adventure story --- there's the angst of
late winter, then the relentless build toward the climax, followed by
the happily ever after period of warm weather, flowers, and bird
song. Right now, I feel like we're beginning the first tiny steps
toward spring's peak.
In early
January as the days lengthened, a few hardy birds began to sing.
I heard Great Horned Owls duetting from opposite hillsides, and the
bright song of a cardinal pierced the cold air. A month later, I
was stunned to notice that the bluebirds had changed back into their
brilliant summer plumage --- I'm afraid I just stopped what I was doing
and stared for a while.
Last week, I
hunted down a blooming Witch-Hazel, knowing full well that Witch-Hazel
is a winter bloomer and not a sign of spring. The American Hazel
catkins that had sat on the branch all winter were starting to lengthen
and soften, but were still far from full bloom.
On my farm, the honeybees
came out for a cleansing flight in the midst of last weekend's
balmy weather, and I even found them a quarter mile away in the
woods. Finally, Monday, I saw what all the fuss was about --- the
first real spring flower was
blooming in the yard. Granted, speedwell is an alien invasive
species, but at this stage of the spring adventure roller coaster, I
have trouble minding.
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