We’ve got Camel’s Hump and the waxing moon and a little snow and blue sky, not to mention 41 degrees. That is your fine spring scene for you. The road was a bit muddy–really muddy on the edges. I got sucked in a bit when I was forced over by a passing truck. No matter–I cleaned off my boots in the grainy snow.
I walked out to get some air and to see what I could see. The afternoon was stunning, I tell you. I unzipped my jacket. I took off my gloves. I watched a red tailed hawk soar out over the fields and catch dinner. I was feeling pretty good. At the river I stopped and examined it for a bit. I saw lots of ice with water pooled on top, animal tracks criss-crossing the wet snow on the surface, and just a small area of open water. Soon there will be beavers and mallards and kingfishers here.
Almost back to the house and I heard something I haven’t heard since fall–the echoing call of a killdeer. I thought I might have been mistaken. Perhaps it was just a robin behind some trees, the sound twisted by the landscape? So I listened. I heard it again. Then I spotted it way out there–white and brown moving against the white and brown. I tromped over the snow and ice and dried grass until I got close enough to see it well. Then I heard another and spotted that one, too. Then another. Now that is a sign that spring is just about here.
Tomorrow it is forecast to snow. A lot. We might get a foot or more by the time it stops. The annual battle between winter and spring seems to have begun. We will enjoy the snow–sledding, skiing, digging. I imagine the snow will not stick around long. Then we will enjoy spring. Winter and spring both offer a lot to amaze me. I can’t go wrong this time of year.