A New Season
The week marked the arrival of meteorological spring. Wait…isn’t the first day of spring on March 21st? That would be the astronomical spring based upon the position of the earth in relation to the sun, aka, the vernal equinox. But to keep things simpler, climatologists have broken down the seasons in relation to the calendar months that best reflect the temperature meaning March kicks off Spring.
It doesn’t take a meteorologist to tell me change of seasons is underway. There are plenty of signs breaking through the crust of snow and ice, the first being the green tufts on the horseradish. They bust up through the barren brown soil alerting me to the impending arrival of spring rituals and celebrations that require their harvest. Also peeking out are shoots from early bulb flowers like crocus, hyacinth, and daffodils. When it hits nearly 70 degrees early next week they’ll shoot up inches practically overnight.
This is the time I year I take the first long walk along the waterways and creek in the areas of the farm that are left out of production for conservation purposes. As much as I’d enjoy this trail on a daily basis, the wildness of it reduces the trek to several times a year.
The walk starts out at the top of the woodlands where open pasture meets the steep hillside thick with hardwoods and a dense undergrowth of wild raspberries. This time of year all is bare leaving the deer trails easy to follow down to the floodplain. The pastures, saturated with melting snow, create seasonal runoff priming the riparian for the first bursts of spring. It’s still too cold to explore for the colorful salamanders and newts, but the abundance of water rattles the food chain to begin a new cycle.
The wetlands area of the farm are just that, a boggy area surrounding the year-round run meandering parallel to the woodlands as they taper into rolling pastures. This time of year the footing is what farmers call greasy—wet and muddy on the surface, frozen underneath. This is the most ideal time to explore this area as much of the year the boot-sucking mud makes it nearly impossible. Despite the creek being swollen from melting snow and rain, there are slick spots on the banks revealing abundant wildlife activity. Telltale footprints show me that I don’t want my poultry anywhere near this area or the mink, weasels, and raccoons would be eating large. The racoons will traverse the woodlands for an easy meal; fortunately, the mink and weasels do not. I still relish signs of these carnivorous predators as it means the ecosystem is abundant enough to support them.
Bird life is the next bellwether of spring. Today I spotted crows, killdeer, woodpeckers, eagles and Canadian geese, the big reason I tend to avoid this walk during nesting season. If you’ve never been chased or pinched by a goose you wouldn’t understand. Only when I see the adults with their goslings on the pond will I begin to venture back into the wetlands.
The vernal ponds are my favorite. These are the depressions on the floodplain that will fill with water only for a month or so, just long enough for a cacophonous symphony of peepers to lay their eggs in gelatinous masses that will hatch into tadpoles and morph into frogs as the shallow ponds give way to grasses.
The big movers and my favorite dinosaurs won’t head up over the banks and through the pastures to the pond until late spring. I’m talking about turtles. They’ll be busy feasting on the salamanders, frogs and even the goslings before their trek begins to the big year-round pond where they lay their eggs. Anyone who thinks these cold-blooded ectotherms aren’t smart hasn’t seen a line of snappers waiting to go through the only open spot in a half mile line of fencing.
The biggest sign of spring by far on my walk is all the activity around the burrows and hollowed out trees which makes this trail treacherous when there is snow on the ground. In addition to groundhogs, fox dens are showing signs of increased traffic along with bunny warrens and vole trails. The path leading down into the cave (yes, there’s a big cave here!) is even showing signs of use. I haven’t rigged up the trail camera yet so I can’t tell if it’s coyotes which I have begun to hear at night or bears who are the sign of meteorological summer in June.
While I understand that you can’t go on that walk with me to witness all the signs, what you can do is take a stroll through the farmers market to see all the signs of spring like green garlic, spinach, duck eggs, and my personal favorite that I indulged in last week—shad roe. And the biggest sign of spring…farmers markets are again open at 9 AM so get there early so you, too, can enjoy the first bounties of the new season.