Ah, Spring!

It’s the 11th of March, 10 days ‘til Spring Equinox. Pure white snow presses itself tightly against the earth. Its undulating dips and mounds replicate the Earth’s feminine nature. Trees sway their naked branches in circulating rhythms. They look like they’re still asleep but now there’s a whisper—just a whisper—of rebirth. (Their sap is running and it’s time to harvest their deliciousness.)

I can feel it … the advent of spring. It’s subtle, I admit. But there are signs. Signs! Cleaner, clearer skies. More intense shades of blue. Wider, brighter expanses of light. Here and there, an island of dark earth and dry, brown grass emerges amidst the vast expanse of frozen landscape.

The air is different. I can’t tell you how exactly. But spring quivers in the breezes.

The birds’ winter routine is altering too. They no longer vie for their spot at the feeder with the same level of competitive violence. Last week there were a dozen Pine Grosbeaks surveying the deck floor for oily black sunflower seeds. Black-Capped Chickadees, Nuthatches, Pine Siskins, Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers lurked at the feeder. Now, one single Chickadee feeds alone.

The cat anchors himself on the edge of the deck, his head dipping over the side to monitor the squirrels below. He hasn’t hunted that single-mindedly for months. The dog, his light fur coat no match for cooler temps, tends to his own routine of hunt and sniff, hunt and sniff. Last night he came in and out repeatedly as dusk fell. His vocalizations have increased dramatically, another indication that more creatures are afoot in the dark woods that surround us.

Excitement percolates beneath the surface of my skin. There is a subtle, shifting change despite the fact that I continue to wear wool socks, long underwear, layers of polypropylene, and Sorel boots. Something new waits beneath layers of snow and sturdy ice; some new being hides behind well-insulated walls and sealed windows and doors. When will it, she, I, we emerge?