Between Our Steps: Awakening
Columnist Cathy Hird shares reflections on seasonal change and signs from the natural world that signal the awakening of spring.
COMMUNITY CONTRIBUTION
As April began, the world outside my door started to awaken. Rabbits reappeared. These critters wander between the yards, sliding under fences. They drive my dogs crazy when they come into our backyard.
As the snow left, the brown remnants of last years flowers appeared. They mark where roots are waiting for the ground to warm up. But among them were the wilted green leaves of the irises I planted two years ago. New leaves would soon sprout in these places.
A pair of gulls appeared, gliding silently through the park by the river. Geese returned, sailing on the water, resting on the shore, announcing their return loudly.
Mornings started to have more music. Bird songs erupted from the trees. Soon, I heard the trill of a red-winged blackbird. It seemed as if each day a new bird returned, adding their song to the chorus.
Though the grass remained brown, there was a patch of snow drops beside the sidewalk. I mentioned this to a few people who said, “No! Not more snow!” I had to let them know that these were early spring flowers, not a mid-April snow fall. Though we did have one of those as well.
In a couple locations, cedar trees turned brown over the course of the winter. These still remain a reddish brown. I’ve sighted a few brown pines as well. These are the consequence of the long drought of last summer and fall. I’ll watch them for any hint of green, but I expect they are gone. A real loss.
By mid-April, in a small raised bed, onions that I had missed last year sprouted. I bought some more onion sets to fill in that garden.
Cats that spent the winter cuddled up where it was warm started to venture out. I saw them sprawled on their front porch, sprinting across the road. Fortunately, my dogs seem more bothered by rabbits this year and are ignoring these sightings.
About this time, chipmunks started to scurry across lawns. Darting here and there, they look hungry, eager to find some of the food they hid last fall.
Crab-apples that hung on all winter have been eaten by robins. Those trees are now bare and grey-brown. But on another tree, I saw a dash of red. I realized that this year’s flower buds had burst, giving the tree a light haze of colour. Soon, leaf buds will burst as well.
A week later, I noticed that the buds on the hedge by the sidewalk had burst open. A light green haze covered these shrubs. Soon the same haze appeared on mature trees. Soon, they will be green.
As April drew to a close, the grass started to green up, filling in white-yellow patches. Blue bells could be seen in one looked closely. Sun-bright daffodils graced many gardens.
On a warm day, I trimmed last summers stems as green leaves appeared beneath them. I left these on the ground to be cleaned up later: I have been told they harbour beneficial insects. The space does look greener.
Tulip leaves began to appear. Allium sprouted six-inch-long leaves overnight. And in a sheltered garden, a magnolia held delicate pink flowers. Spring was on its way.
Another week, and the morning bird chorus had new voices. A flash of white told me a flicker had returned. By this time, bulb leaves showed in my garden and in those I walked by. Rings of green leaves showed where the dead stalks of last year’s growth stood. Small dandelion leaves poked up through the mulch. Some of the lawn was beginning to green up.
A couple warm days and I was swarmed by tiny little flies. The song birds that feed on them won’t be far behind.
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