Almost all of the snow from the recent storm has melted. Only tiny islands of white remain in my yard. The snowdrops and aconite are coming up. If we continue to have weather as warm as today, they might bloom and die by the weekend. I hope not, for I really need their cheerfulness.
There's a new hatch of crowlets visiting the trees in the yard; just barely fledged, their flights are short and erratic. They're tree-hopping more than flying right now. Their older siblings and parents park them in trees along the back alley and around the barn and workshop, while they go off scouting for food; meaning, other birds' nests to raid. It's too soon for the insects they like to eat.
I heard a flock of Canada geese overhead a little while ago, a sound I listen for twice a year. It is a melancholy sound, yet hopeful; encouraging, even. All those birds, following each other, calling to one another. I never know if those that honk are calling cadence for the rest, or just making reassuring sounds, or giving flight directions. In the fall, there will be new geese in the south-bound formations, hatched this spring along the lakes and ponds to the north of here.
Last night, there was a cat fight in the back yard, the first of the season. Guess the queens are coming into heat, or the toms are marking territories again - maybe both. Maybe they're just letting off steam, after being cooped up during the snowy days.
Other signs of spring: groundhogs in the fields; maple trees looking furry with swelling buds; kids out on skateboards again; muscle cars racing up and down the streets, peeling off layers of rubber from their tires, which they couldn't do on snow-covered streets; and - my favorite - herds of motorcyclists riding down the highways and streets, their engines full-throttle, their calls of the open road roaring in my ears for miles after I pass them.
Fortunately, the warm air heats up the house during the day so that I don't have to turn the furnace up too high, which means the fuel oil will go a little further between fill-ups. I am grateful for that. The nights are still cold, but not freezing like a few weeks ago. I can put some of the blankets away...well, maybe I should wait until April to do that, just in case. The Old Farmer's Almanac forecasts a heavy snow for around the middle of this month, and they are rarely wrong. Wait: there was that hurricane in 1937 they missed, that ripped up the Atlantic coast and beat up New England rather badly, but other than that...can't hold them accountable for freakish events such as that.
Change is coming, to be sure. Some of it is oh-so welcome; some, like finishing this divorce settlement, not so much. It looks like it's going to turn into a dirty fight to the finish. This might be the perfect season for it, though.
I mean, there's all this mud about.
17 comments:
Finish it. There is not too high a price for peace of mind.
Signs are rife here too. The sun has strength again and is flexing his arms daily. There's talk of a good summer. I really hope so!
I prefer not to insist that Spring is imminent; this has been a winter that not only slowed down my blood flow but also my imagination. Oh, the chore of getting dressed in the morning; the weariness of it. I don't intend to lower my guard until I have to change my underpants at lunchtime
Yours is a distinctive American Spring with groundhogs out looking for Bill Murray and furry maple buds. And whereas I am, as you know, enthusiastic about biking you tickled my memory with the reference to musclecars. They were invented while I lived in the US as evolutionary forms of the Mustang, the Camaro and the Charger and celebrated in what was, for a brief period during the David Davies editorship, the best leisure time magazine ever: Car and Driver. Another Spring ritual: the opening game of the Pirates 1966 season, out in the bleachers at the old Forbes Field.
This winter has been bad for birds over here. The small ones - sparrows and tits - have simply disappeared. I put crusts on the bird table and they seem to evaporate. But I doubt whether it's birds that are doing the cleaning up, More likely rats. Once I saw rat climbing the table's centre pole, hugging it to his body like a circus gymnast.
Another memory floats back: a drive on dirt roads out in the West Virginia panhandle, passing by shacks in the woods where Deliverance-looking men sat on the stoop and watched speculatively as we went past. Not a place to run out of gas.
Time to start making mud balls?
Reading this, it occurs to me that we bloggers are like geese, honking out for each other! : )
Spring is being very ugly here, today--rain on top of filthy snow--but it's all good because it's spring!
Love your Barrie quote--reminds me of one of my faves, from Samuel Beckett:
"No matter. Try again, fail again, fail better."
"Fail better" is a bull's eye I can aim for.
The sound of geese flying overhead somehow sums up the restlessness of Spring, as do your observations of the crowlets hopping from tree to tree. I hope that the warm weather and the rising sap will bring you good cheer, dear Crow.
I like how very tuned-in you are to all the stirrings of life all around, what the plants and creatures are up to in the transition from one season to the next.
And I was struck especially by this observation:
The snowdrops and aconite are coming up. If we continue to have weather as warm as today, they might bloom and die by the weekend.
People usually talk about how they can't wait for warmer weather, because they want to see more flowers; few note the flowers that are already there and that will pass with the warmer weather.
They're tree-hopping more than flying right now.
Some will slip and fall, but plenty will still make it and take wing.
The grackles got back to Massachusetts this past weekend - it's spring for sure! Wait-Mud Season first, then spring!
Good morning, everyone, and thank you for dropping by.
Z: The ball is now in Ex-B's court. I'm waiting on him to either sign the agreement presented, or make an offer I can sign. Until we are divorced, he has to pay support, so it benefits me for him to delay.
Steve: I hope we have a good summer, too.
BB: try axle grease on the pole - that's supposed to keep squirrels and other climbing pests off the bird trays.
RE: mud balls - I hope it doesn't come to that, but I'm ready.
Fresca: Thanks for the Beckett quote! That's going up there above Barrie's. Yes, I can aim for that goal, too.
Plutarch/Joe: Restlessness - yes, that's the right word; more accuarate than melancholy, in fact. As I type this, the crows and blue jays are putting up quite a fuss in the backyard. There must be a cat afoot.
HKatz: I'm pleased to see you here. Snowdrops and aconite have such a short blooming time as it is, that I'm sorry for the weather to warm up too quickly. They just now managed to survive the piles of snow.
Deedee: I forgot the fifth season of the year - Mudtime! Thanks for the reminder. Hope things are going well with your new job.
Mud only forms in the rain ... remember that sunshine always follows!
Halt die Ohren steif, liebe Martha! [Hold your ears stiff!]
Rouchswalwe:
We are making mud today! Lots of rain, which smells sweet, for some reason. Yesterday afternoon I walked around the house to see if anything else is blooming, and was greeted by bright yellow and purple crocuses. Life is good, and my ears are stiff!
Somehow the longer days and a bit of sun warmth make things seem a bit more possible, don't they?
Yes, they do, Lucy. Even today's rains seem right, and in keeping with the season, which is encouraging.
More and more flowers are popping up and more trees are putting forth leaf buds. I can hardly wait.
I'm excited for you that your spring is finally showing her face. We get very long ones here in Portland because it mostly rains from March through June.
Let's hope you don't have to indulge in any mud wrestling :-)
Hello, Susan:
After three days of rain (nowhere near what you folks get at this time of year), we have mud up to our ankles in spots around here, but there will be no wrestling.
:)
mud... change and rebirth.... quite the combo!!
welcome spring... I hope
I like all your signs of spring. Here the snow is gone from the front (south facing) yard and nearly gone from the back. Spring will not be denied.
As a latecomer to this debate I am prompted to add my observations.
Without being a doctor of English language I reckon the part of the first sentence beginning with “…or else a corruption” is ungrammatical or if not, badly written and difficult to interpret. This must prompt one to question the author’s ability to express his meaning.
I suggest that in the second sentence it is only that we MAY be “…helping each other” rather than “are”.
In the second paragraph I do not see why we should be “…in awe”. My feelings on the piece are: I believe that we should withold judgement on new acquaintances for some time, rather than forming unbalanced first opinions, and that this is a matter of common sense which increases with age.
The last paragraph says that we are all unique which is an unavoidable, and unnecessarily stated fact – there is nothing glamorous, splendiferous or sentimental about this.
Following BB hinting at your possible doubts I suppose this comes from your “…Ponderous thought” comment.
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