Spring Time

When does spring arrive?

 The solar calendar has spring arriving on or about the vernal equinox – March 21 or so in the northern hemisphere. The boat builder and raconteur Robb White says that in southern Georgia and along the Gulf Coast of Florida winter might only last a few weeks and spring arrives in January. Someone who lives in Jasper or Edmonton has no doubt, some other experience and with shorter summers.

The Ides of March has come and gone and I think I have begun to see when spring arrived here in the valley of Railroad Creek. – for it has arrived, I am more certain everyday.

For me, spring arrived on the mornings of the 26^th and the 27^th of February, but I did not spec it at the time.I walked out the door Wednesday morning at about 0715 and onto the top layer of snow (about five feet above the ground). It was a grayish day still, with a high overcast: thin clouds through which blue sky was visible. My ears picked up the first hints of spring – bird song, twittering, tweeting, chattering. A flock of birds was flying up valley, and I heard them before I saw them. Twenty or thirty silhouettes wove a tapestry of song – I could not make out details against the early morning light, but they wove in and among each other with bright motions. The songs were familiar, but I could not place them.

I walked out onto the snow the next day too, at a slightly different time  - I do not recall if it was earlier or later; but it was perfectly timed to catch the same experience. I do not know if they were the exact same birds, but the songs and the braided flight path was the same. And I still could not make out details visually.

This morning I looked out the window after getting dressed and opening the curtains, and saw three or five birds on the ground near our neighbors Christmas tree adjacent to the porch – saw them and heard the same songs. Juncos!

Dark Eyed Junco

I should have recognized these birds - for the last ten or twelve years a pair has nested on the beam supporting the rafters of our front porch, raising at least two and sometimes three broods each summer. We see them out the windows of the living room, bringing twigs and grasses to rebuild the nest. And then one day we only see the male, mostly. If we quietly look, with slow motions, we can see them in the nest. We try not to use that door, but they become accustomed to us, at least somewhat. At some point thereafter we hear tiny cheeps, and then little chick faces peering at us over the edge of the nest. 

When the babies come out of the nest, their first flights are fluttery and direction is kind of random (hardly any tail feathers yet!). They usually end up in or under the shrubs near the front door, and get fed at that location. For the next day or two, there is mad motion of young birds going here and there and the adult birds going to them. By about the third or fourth day they seem to be flying better, and sticking together better as well. And then they all disappear for a few weeks. The parent birds return alone, and the brood raising starts again. 

We still have plenty of snow on the ground, but it is decreasing by about an inch every day and more when it rains like it is raining this morning. Now that my eyes are open, I see other signs of spring: the spruce tree flowers have bloomed, and the buds cover the snow under the spruce trees. The cottonwoods along the banks of the creek have little buds. When I was home last weekend, the magnolia buds looked big and fuzzy. We planted that variety of magnolia because it blooms around the time of the boys' birthdays. In Eugene, it bloomed closer to St. Patricks Day, but in Gig Harbor it usually blooms between the boys birthdays. 

Spring is sprung.

References
Junco
Dark-eyed Junco