Teeny weeny signs of spring

Looking out my kitchen window, I would never guess that the vernal equinox
is just a few weeks away.
This year March 20th marks the very first day of spring; although I have
my doubts that it is going to feel much like spring.
But upon further observation a person can observe signs of spring.
There is this bunch of squirrels living right outside my large kitchen
windows. In total, at one time, I have counted five of the buggers feeding
on the corn under the corn burner. From what I see, it seems as if all but
one of the squirrels is a female.
There is only one fur ball that seems to get chased around by the others.
And I swear they send each other signals using their tails. She sends some
sort of squirrely tease to each and every one of those male grey
squirrels, and then runs away.
You go squirrel!
I hear a sign of spring most mornings now. A Sputzey, or common sparrow,
has been singing its happy song in the holding area of the milking barn.
It’s funny how I never noticed the absence of bird sounds during this long
blasted winter. It’s also funny how the most unexciting bird song can
sound great to a winter hater’s ears.
I cannot wait for the barn swallows to return. I thought of them earlier
this week, and then realized it was going to be a long time until I see
the first one of the season. This year I am guessing they will return
somewhere around the Fourth of July, instead of the end of April.
I know, I know. The groundhog, on February 2, 2014, said we will have six
more weeks of winter.
Has anyone seen the little rodent since then?
He was correct in his prediction, now he’s afraid to come out of his hole.
In much the same way I want to slap the heads off of snowmen, I would like
to slap the head off that groundhog. (Breathe Kerry, breathe.)
Another sign of spring are the awesome puddles on Broadway! I don’t know
if it’s proper to hit every single puddle to spray the water everywhere,
but sometimes having fun doesn’t involve proper.
I miss walking through mud puddles. I know, every other year I complain
about the wealth of mud and muck on the farm, but this year I am not going
to let one word of weather disdain leave my mouth. I gave that up for
Lent.
I’m ready to get out and work in my yard and garden. I have trees that I
need to trim. Of course, this could be done during the winter, but it just
so happens that the trees I want to trim are buried in a 27-foot snow
drift.
I feel bad for my trees. The weight of the snow, when it does finally
melt, is going to pull a lot of the branches right off the tree.
Bring on the tree Band-Aids.
Somewhere in my yard, there is an old wagon I use for decoration, I think
I left it by the lilac bushes.
I can’t tell.
Come to think of it, I can no longer see the monstrous boulder by my
flagpole.
It’s a wonder I haven’t lost our little Rat Terriers in the mounds of snow.
The last time the winter was this pathetic, Russell was about one-year
old. I remember sledding right in our very own back yard. The snow drifts
were so high we could have walked right into the second story of the barn,
but alas, there wasn’t a door there. Russell was such a pudgy baby he
didn’t yet know how to walk. I had to carry him up and down the snow pile.
I have a picture from that day, and Russell looks miserably cold. Joey is
not in the image at all, I would imagine he was on the other side of the
drift.
Spring has to come sooner or later, right?
Until then, I think I am going to continue looking for little signs of
spring.
Maybe then, before I know it, it will be here. Probably right after the
swallows arrive.
For questions, or comments, e-mail me at kahoffman@newulmtel.net.
-30-

Delete & Prev | Delete & Next

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: