Wandering the Wilds - Shifting Towards Springtime

Wandering the Wilds

Shifting Towards Springtime

(February/March 2023)

In the wilds,

the seasons

are marching onward.

Change

is in the soil,

in the wind,

in the very smell of the air.

Icy mornings become glorious afternoons, filled with warmth and vibrant colors...

at least for a day or two at a time.

(A surprise snowstorm is still a possibility!)

A prowling mama mountain lion is teaching her kits to hunt in my neighborhood,

making the keepers of

goats,

sheep,

and small children

stay watchful and wary.

Soon the silver swans

whom we greet daily as we drive by,

(Hello swans!)

will fly back to their summer homes

to raise their young.

The great horned owls

have found a nest in the forest.

(Are there eggs? Are there chicks? My binoculars give me no clues...yet.)

Quiet nights of sparkling stars

are now full of the rhythmic,

thrumming chorus of frogs.

The first greening of spring,

osoberry leaf bundles,

have changed,

now adorned with drooping lacey flowers,

visited by an enormous buzzing bumblebee

(A queen?)

The rushing,

icy stream at Forest School

seemed empty a few weeks ago,

but now creeping caddisflies crawl,

rasping at algae,

growing bigger and stronger.

Tiny salmon fry

emerge from the gravel,

hungry and hunting.

Salmonberry buds

skip the leaves,

blossoming into tiny pinpricks of pink,

then emerging into cheerful flowers.

(Why blossoms before leaves?)

Invisible

in the tangled brush,

a Pacific Wren

sings his springtime song,

proudly declaring

he has

Built A Nest!

It’s not a bad way to wake up

before my alarm clock.

More pink explodes

as the first of the ornamental trees

burst into blossom.

Winds shake and shiver them,

dusting the ground around

with cherry blossoms.

(Pacific Northwest Springtime Snow!)

In my yard,

the buried bulbs

send up their shoots.

Daffodils,

crocuses,

snowdrops,

soon tulips,

(If the rabbits and deer don’t eat them all!)

a symphony of color,

and always a fun spring surprise.

In forest and field,

helicopters

have taken root,

standing on end,

wearing their seeds like a hat,

protecting the delicate first leaves

of the mighty maple trees.

(How many take root? How many become trees?)

In the wilds,

there is the first banana slug,

the first skunk cabbage,

the first salamander,

the first stinging nettles.

The world

is still wet

and cold

(most of the time)

but the hints are there,

the starts are there.

The world is ready

to burst

into springtime,

to burst

into color,

to burst

into life.