There are true signs. Now I am not promising that there won't be snow anymore. I am not promising temperatures won't sink below freezing anymore. And I am not promising there won't be a winterstorm anymore. King Winter likely still has tricks on his sleeve. He is a hard one to defeat. He likes to be all powerful. But undeniably Spring Maiden is here. And Mother Nature knows it.
Early one morning just as the sun was rising...that was this morning, I set out into the slowly thinning mist with my true and faithful friend Simon. For those who may be uninformed, Simon is a dog. A golden retriever.
We went through te woods, where squirrels and birds were awakening. A tricky feat for the feet. Climbing a still icy hill takes concentration. Balancing on uneven icy trails not much better. But like magic, where no people feet have stomped down snow, there is grassy ground, springy and wet to greet those feet, longing to be free, but wisely encased in Wellies.
So you want me to come to the point, you impatient ones. Well walking by the Duck Pond, I heard them. I was pretty sure. My heart skipped a beat. But was I right? I tarried, looked up into the trees but there was no visual sign. And on I went, listening to bird sounds all around, Chickadees, Mourning Doves, Blue Jays, Cardinals, bossy Crows, and the itty bitty chirpings everywhere of Finches and Sparrows. Quite a symphony.
The trail I followed is one I often do. It takes an hour and a half, but this lovely morning I made it last a good two hours, stopping often to see new growths already appearing in sheltered nooks . A saucy Robin ran ahead of me on the path. Then flew up and settled on a backyard fence. And then, and then... I heard it again. Quite distinctly. I looked up, way up, and there was... No, not Rusty, you silly ones who used to watch The Friendly Giant, but the true messenger of spring, a Red Winged Blackbird.
And I saw the beginnings of lilies, those big orange ones, little greenish yellow sprouts sunning near a backyard fence by the creek. And in my own little wilderness yard in front of the house, tiny green sprouts are pushing up, the beginnings of crocusses, daffo-down-dillies and the likes, and miraculously, very astonishing to me, the snowbells that flowered in the mild month of January and got dumped on with snow followed by arctic temperatures, came from under that snow and frost, like it never happened. There they are, slender and beautiful, strong enough to defy King Winter, like true sisters of Spring Maiden.
The mist slowly lifted and slanted sunrays broke through boughs of trees. A beautiful day is born holding in its aura the promise of spring.
Simon now lies outside in front of the house. Greeting all that pass by. His coat is shimmering golden in the sun. True gold. Life and warm. Nothing like a yellow metal kind of gold.
And here is a wish for a good weekend to all you bloggers, from a spring feverish Wild Thing.
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8 comments:
Our senses of Spring focuses on the relationship between our creative sense of self and that of the earth's natural need to create anew. We begin to open our doors and windows and invite that renewal of energy within our own lives.
Why miss an opportunity to take a fresh new look at life and the new adventures it could potentially contain.
I see the celebration of spring in children. Road hockey, skipping ropes, skateboards and roller skates.
Perhaps it's not by chance that the saying goes - "Hope springs eternal..." Hope and spring go together.
Maybe winter isn't a mighty king, but a kindly grandmother who knows all must sleep and puts the child to bed, under weighty duvets and quilts, and says, "Sleep, sweet love... enter the darkness of the cave for awhile... there is time enough..."
I wanted to put a photo with this comment as a sure sign of spring, but alas, the blogger will only let me do it as a whole new post, so you'll have to imagine instead...
In my back yard, hanging from the opening of the old bird house my father built... is a pink J-cloth.... really... the sparrows tried to pull it inside for either spring cleaning or nesting...
Like all living things, I suppose, Winter has more than one personality. When he throws razor sharp blades at his winter landscape, topples trees, throws down branches, rips at houses, blows his deep freeze breath into creatures, he is Mighty King of his season. The snow he produces, the protective blanket, suggests the motherly nature, the feminine in him. Winter is beautiful. Winter produces jewels. Winter's sunny skies are the bluest. Winter's lilac edges around frozen waters, along the rims of snow- landscapes, are enchanting from a safe place where you can keep warm. Winter as friend. Winter as enemy. Winter's dual personality.
Spring Maiden can also be fierce. She causes floods, drowning many creatures. She may turn water drops into hail stones, ruining crops. All while she is also creating new life. The tender buds on trees. The lovely spring flowers... still she can be destroyer as well as nourisher. Destroyer may be counter part of the feminine.
However that is, Winter has a habit of overstaying his welcome. Winter turns spiteful when Spring Maiden has her foot in the door. That's when he looses his popularity, even from the ones he is adored by, skiers, skaters...
But if it hadn't been for winter, however could we appreciate the tenderness, the newness, the rebirth of life?
There is another matter that came again to my attention on my walks along the hydro line trails. I have written about it before. I have questioned people, but so far I haven't received any satisfying anwer. Why, three quarter up on those tall hydro poles is there a
yellow sign with black letters that sais, "Helicopter Hazard Ahead" ??? No one walks there. As far as we know, birds cannot read. Any flying machine close enough to read that sign is doomed, crashing into the wires.
Well I present this riddle to a wider audience. I know it will pry on Wild thing's mind until she finds the answer. She's like that.
I should have said, "a wider readership" in my past comment.
I've had myself some fun, trying to get to the bottom of that question.
I searched the net. Got me nowhere. I searched the phonebook. Didn't see any number that could possibly lead to such information. Phoned information Kitchener. The girl was immediately fired up with interest. She laughed and searched around and came to suggest,and give me the number of Waterloo Airport. I phoned there and immediately had the guy fully interested. He said that yes he had seen those signs too and had no clue. He put me on hold and inquired around. No one knew. The best explanation: Maybe the signs are really old. Were there before the area was built up, and maybe some people owned helicopters... Yeah, sure! How likely is that?
So I went with the second suggestion of Info Kitchener and phoned Waterloo North Hydro. The girl answering me was greatly into it, right away. She put me on hold and started inquiring. The answer she came back with was that there are regular helicopter patrols to check out the hydro lines.
I asked but who are the signs for? For helicopter pilots to read them they would be too close to avoid a crash. She suggested, on her own imagination, that maybe for the people walking on the trail, to warn them that a heliopter could crash in to them. I doubled up laughing over that!
Anyhow, it somehow has to do with the helicopter patrols. Maybe the hazard is not in the poles but for wires that maybe invisable in certain light? That's the best I can come up with.
I had a lot of people amused and wondering. That was fun. At info Kitchener she asked me to call back if I had an answer.
Maybe if you were a pilot of a helicopter (or WERE a helicopter) the sign would make sense - sometimes things make sense from a different perspective...
In this case, you'd have to ask a helicopter to know for sure...
What is equally interesting are the lengths to which you have gone to find out...
I would like to be a passenger in a such a patrol helicopter and see if those signs are readable from that height.
Sort of pathetic that I had time to do all that, huh. Thing is, that, not out of lack of things to do, I am bored. A late, dragging, winter effect I seem to deal with every year. It seemed as good a time as any to try to get that question off my mind. And I had fun doing it. The reaction of the people I asked was interesting. I've at times asked different questions in the library, hard to find answers, and had almost the whole library staff in action. How cool is that? Often with satisfying results though.:)
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