Well, she’s sprung! According to all my sources in nature (and the calendar) the tide has turned and winter is slowly leaving the district, although I am sure winter has one more trick up its sleeve. Winter, unlike its arrival, is very slow to give ground to warmer days even when the sun refuses to submit to an early departure from the spring sky-soon to be summer sky. But I have proof it is in the leaving stages. For the season.


Have you noticed the red-wing blackbird has arrived? The liquid song dots the landscape as the boys plot out the territories in advance of the girls along waterways and wetlands. While I have noticed over the years that he usually get snowed upon at least once he are dependable harbinger of the warmer season to come. Soon he will be dive bombing my head as I partake in my daily walk along the Wisconsin River, a tradition I cannot seem to talk him out of no matter how many conversations we had.


High above the river a box sits on the top of a power line tower where a Bald Eagle has set her pretty little self smack in the middle of the Osprey’s nest. The Ospreys are sure to have something to say about it when the pair gets here. They are a bit late this spring so maybe they have taken up another address. I will wait and see.


The ducks are pairing up, although there seemed to be a difference of opinion with one would be newlyweds. The drake sat on one end of a submerged log and would make tender advances to the hen, but every time he waddled over to her end of the log, she would ruffle her feathers and lower her head towards him in a threatening manner which caused him to scurry in retreat, looking defeated in his spring finery only to try again as soon as she settled down. I don’t see this couple going anywhere. But I have been wrong before.


Bits of promises are creeping from the ground, little buds of what will be as the weather turns warmer. Bleeding hearts, sweet woodruff and lady’s mantle expose their delicate nubs to brave the frost that is sure to come before spring proper arrives. Pregnant buds hang heavy on the maples, ready to birth the green leaves that will dapple the ground with a crazy quilt of sun and shade. Ah, those lovely days of spring.


The calendar may say it is indeed Spring, but those that place more faith in the natural patterns than in ‘man’ dated ideology know she is near by the comings and goings of the natural world and that is never wrong. I cannot say the same for our physical calendar.


So take heart my friends, she is definitely in the wind and on her way. Soon the flowers will burst open, the sun will have some heat to it and the days will last forever. Well, almost. Winter is in the rearview mirror according to all indicators, both natural and otherwise.


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