Pardon the common grammar, but there’s a joy to the coming of spring that defies city-wise learnin’ and wants to make you rejoice like country tillers throughout time at the turning of the seasons. Here we’ve had an early thaw and a few days of warmish weather that I know are mere teasers But when you see the crows out celebrating the reappearance of grass and soil and ready to pick a fight with any raptor that might threaten its young in the nesting season soon to come, you can’t help that rush of expectancy.
Walking home last night, I could smell the soil for the first time since Thanksgiving, and I took my initial post-snow walk up through the old orchard with its flattened weeds punctuated with vole and mouse trails that just last week kept them safely under the snow and away from predatory eyes. The hawks are perching low now, ready to take quick dives for meals that have been eluding them since the beginning of December. One small flock of mallards was about—scouting for open water on lakes and ponds that had been sealed with ice thicker than it has been for years. Even during the big chill a few weeks back, the migrating bufflehead ducks were already massing in the open water on or near Lake Michigan
Halfway home I broke a twig from a maple tree and found that indeed the sap is running. Warming and lengthening days with more sunshine and cold nights combine to call the maple roots to action, bringing up the sugary water that will soon be dripping from spile to sap bucket all over the North Country. Mid-February to mid-March is sugarbush time here—providing the rest of the country
with “genuine maple syrup.” After the cold comes roaring back in tonight, the end of the snapped twig may soon provide me with a sap-sickle for a mildly sweet lick or two for my homeward trudge.
In the orchard the over-wintering crabapples and haws (fruit of the hawthorn) are ready to provide nourishment for the migrating robin flocks that follow the thaw northward assuming that the snow is done and they can get on with worm collecting. When they’re surprised by the late snow storms, they go for the fruit. As the weather gets warmer, these fruits will soon ferment and drop in preparation for the new blossoms. What is humorous is to see is cedar waxwings gorging on the fruit at the fermenting stage and flying drunk. Unfortunately, they do at times fly into windows or fall off the trees in stupor, often bringing about their demise.
If you go here you can get a glimpse of the old orchard on Google Maps in the satellite view. The first big white roof you see directly west of our condo is the RBC building. The orchard, in between the condo and RBC, is indicated by the patchwork “dots” that mark the rows of apple trees that are quickly dying off from aging and lack of husbandry.
Remembering where we have lived, I know that in the South there will be camellia festivals and shows galore. In Southern California, the hummingbirds will be returning and starting their feeder ownership battles. And in coastal Northern California the winter rains will have put the rolling hills into their green phase—only to turn “gold” again in late May. When we Michiganders lived in Marin County, we soon realized what good PR it was for the state to call their hills “golden.” Because the grass and weeds in the east are green all summer long, we s
ort of chuckled when we realized that “golden” was a euphemism for “dead” grass and weeds caused by the annual cessation of rain by mid May.
Why don’t you register and/or log in and tell the rest of us what you look forward to when spring comes “where you’re at”?
See you outdoors!
Dean
Many of the photos on this site are from Creative Commons at Flickr.com and from Wikipedia. If you right click with your mouse on these photos, you can see them in their full size. My own pictures will come up in full size if you left click on them—like the zebras on February 8. After you have looked at the photos, click the back arrow to get back to the site.
Some may not know that the highlighted words in post are also links. If you left click on these words, you will be taken to a site that should define the terms or give you further information about them. Again, to get back to the WOC site, click on the back arrow. —DO

February 11th, 2009 at 6:12 pm
Pardon me for saying it Dean but it sounds like you have a case of “Winter Cabin Fever”.
Well so I. It is so human of us to never be satisfied for very long. I love the 4 seasons all 4 of them. But somewhere in the midst of them I grow tired of them and look forward to the next.
If I had one that stayed my favorite, it would have to be Fall. I also love Spring. Mostly because thoes long dark days of winter are finaly over. But then I also love aspects of winter. Most of all I think Summer is my least favorite. Too many crawly critters too many hot nights.
But am for now looking forward to the return of song birds, to the smells of blossoms. Warm morning on my porch, the “CeePeeps” (the music of the spring frogs)at night. To gentle warm rains and yes to no more below freezing temps. To the planting of gardens and the feel of the good earth in my hands.
Oh well, suppose to snow tomorrow and then again this weekend and first of next week. Guess I’ll have to be patient
February 11th, 2009 at 7:05 pm
Dean,
What a wonderful post! Thanks.
And look out for that snow coming (with the wind) tomorrow.
February 11th, 2009 at 11:27 pm
Spring in western North Carolina brings Dogwood Trees blooming their white four petal flowers, Flame Azaleas bursting out with wonderful deep red, pink and white colors, Wisteria vines and their purple blooms, Robins pulling earthworms from the soil, clovers feeding the honey bees, Racoons, Skunks, and Opossums with their newborns, Gray Squirrels which were here all winter seem to scamper over the trees with new found energy. Boys riding bikes, playing baseball. Grownups removing the winter debris, fertilizing yards and planting gardens. And me? I’m itching to go trout fishing and bird watching, and soaking up fresh air and sunshine.
February 15th, 2009 at 6:16 pm
Hi, Dean,
“Green and golden” also makes, of course, reference to the agriculture and gold mining that caused California to grow in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. I agree, though, that much of it turns a brown that might be described as golden if you are imaginative.
For the first time I can recall, our fruitless mulberries did not begin to leaf at the end of January and are still dormant. It’s a bit colder here this year and we had snow down to 1500 feet in some locations last night. We’re still woefully short of snow in the mountains and water in the reservoirs, though.