The world-at-large is at odds, but immediately outside my study window, the sun is shining and the air is a relatively warm 48 degrees. Spring is upon us.
So many changes occur so quickly in spring. Robins flit from ground to tree branch. Sparrows scratch at leaf-litter in search of insects. Clouds of midges dance in midair. Already the calls of spring peepers have given way to the soft quacks of wood frogs followed now by the comb-like calls of the chorus frogs. The currant bushes are budding. Catkins dangling from quaking aspen last Sunday have fallen to the ground. The sweet resin of the Balm of Gilead signals the unfolding of its leaves. Cattails shoot skyward in the ditches. Canada geese nest in grassy openings. Kestrels swoop from electrical lines. Northern harriers glide above uncultivated fields. Buffleheads and coots float on open ponds. Mallards rise in alarm when disturbed. Great skeins of migrating snow geese cross the sky. Sandhill cranes trill in the early morning and at dusk. Eagles soar. Pussy willows dot low-lying areas. The magpies nest in the oak tree in the south woodlot.
Fields are drying. Lawns are greening. In northwestern Minnesota a new season has begun.