Just a Sip
There is always a give and take at the change of
seasons. Here in Wisconsin, one never
just throws the windows open on March 21st because the calendar says
that it is spring. If you do, you are
more likely to get a blast of a north wind with a few swirling snowflakes mixed
in for good measure than a soft southerly breeze. It’s no coincidence that when the first pussy
willows begin to bud out along the edges of the woods that they are covered in
what appears to be a gray fur coat.
Still, there seems to be more anxiety amongst humans
about the full arrival of spring than any of the other seasons. For many it seems to be more about leaving
winter behind than welcoming spring in. That’s
probably why when the temperatures warmed into the 40’s this week for the first
time this year, the prevailing tendency was to trade in common sense. I think that’s the only explanation I can
come up with for the couple that passed by me yesterday headed in the opposite direction
with the top down on their convertible. While
the sun was bright the air temperature was hovering at 42 degrees. It made me wonder if the same couple also had
their top down last November when it was the same temperature. I doubt
it. I suspect back then that they were
huddled in and complaining about how cold it was.
Still, it was fairly pleasant when I went for my walk
this morning. I did change up to a
lighter jacket and a pair of light gloves.
As soon as I stepped outside I heard the shrill chirping of an
eagle. It’s not unusual to hear or see
an eagle flying overhead. There are stretches
of rapids along the Fox River that allow them to fish year-round. Still, this one sounded very close, but as my
eyes strained high above, I couldn’t spot him.
Most all of the snow we have had this year has been
very dry and light, so it wasn’t surprising to see that even just this handful
of days that reached above freezing had melted much of the snow. But it has been a quiet melt, not the steady dripping
or even out here in the country, any gurgling of snowmelt as the water fills the
ditches.
The walk was quiet for the most part. When the landscape looks again like this a
month from now the air will be filled with the cackles and trills of redwing
blackbirds providing the melody and the geese and swans singing harmony. Finally, a single goose does break the
silence. He has probably fed on waste
grain as the snowmelt has opened up many of the farm fields again. He has no intention of landing here; he is
heading northeast towards open water on the Green Bay. Just as well for him as I suspect that there
is a good 20 inches of ice on the big pond.
I was almost to my turnaround spot when fifty yards ahead,
a big buck busted out of the brush, cleared the road in two bounds and disappeared
in the shoulder-high grasses. He had
dropped his antlers, but he was thick in the chest, so I’m certain it was a
buck. I’m guessing that he was heading
for the swale of willow brush 200 yards away when I surprised him. I walk up to where he crossed. There is enough snow that I can mark his
track on the right as he approached the road.
But when I cross over and look in the ditch where I saw him disappear,
there are no tracks in the inch of soggy snow that is still there. Obviously he cleared the ditch in a single
bound. I stare at the willow swale; I
think he has every intention of lying down in that cover and soaking up
sunshine as today it’s going to nudge 50 degrees and then it will begin to
descend back into winter towards the end of the week.
As I turn up my driveway I hear the eagle again. I turn and look up – nothing. Then he chirps loudly again. I look straight across the vacant field to my
neighbors. There, in a tall ash tree in
his backyard is a pair of bald eagles. I
guess it looked as good a spot as any to spend this fine morning.
When we get these few kinds of days near the end of
winter appreciate them for what they are.
They are a reminder of hope. They
are Nature’s smile. But don’t bet your
heart on them. They will not linger
long. Here, as we should expect, a bit
of snow is predicted towards week’s end.
These days are only intended to be a sip. They are like a smooth bourbon or a glass of
good wine. Savor the taste. The next time they come back around they are
more likely to linger a bit longer. Then
they will be spring’s harbinger, but not yet.
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
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