Spring Fever
03/04/13 04:04
I know that it is easy to get spring fever early in the hills. We can be surprised by spring blizzards well into May, but it is hard to deny that there is a change in the hills. Following the intensity of last week, I attempted to take two days in a row off this week. I didn’t really pull it off. I spent the afternoon in a meeting yesterday, but I did take more time away from the office than usual and I used part of that time to look around the neighborhood and contemplate the coming of spring.
The yearling deer have something inside of them that responds to the nearly 70-degree days. I suppose they don’t remember the way we do, but it is hard not to do a little anthropomorphizing as I sit on my deck and watch them scamper around the yard. They run in circles, chase each other, raise their tails when there is not threat near and expend energy in a manner that seems to be playful. They’ll need those muscles to be toned and ready as they face the summer. They have to gather their own food and by mid summer they will be ranging farther from their mothers and will have to take more responsibility for their own safety and survival. Strong legs and the ability to run are the primary method of avoiding predators. Living next to a very busy road, we wish they could develop some traffic skills, but that doesn’t seem likely. It appears easier to train motorists to avoid the deer than the other way around.
The turkeys are all bunched up. A few days ago I saw what I think is the largest amount of turkeys in the yard at the same time. I counted over 50, but it was difficult to be sure which I had already counted. They don’t exactly hold still for the count. It is interesting to watch the interplay between the turkeys and the deer. Sometimes the turkeys startle the deer and cause them to run a short distance, at other times, the deer wade into a circle of turkeys and sent them squawking and running. If the deer show little road sense, the turkeys have less.
The ice is coming out of the lake. Only the shallows in the coves are ice-filled and that ice is thin. It would have been a good day yesterday to play at the edges of the ice with a kayak, but I decided to take a walk around the edge of the lake instead. The kayak would have been plenty warm and I need to get paddling for the exercise, but I didn’t know how much ice to expect. I simply haven’t been going to the lake on a regular basis. The geese were making a lot of noise and it won’t be long before there are a lot more ducks at the lake. They’re hardy and as long as they have open water they can find food and places to nest. Even if we get a few days of spring blizzard, it is unlikely that we’ll get enough cold weather to freeze up the lake again this year. Warmth begets warmth and the plants start growing and the critters become more active and the sun bears down and heats up the water. The lake is a giant heat sink. It takes several days to change the water temperature just a few degrees.
The forecasters say we have a chance of rain later this week, but the percentages are low on the forecast charts. The land is dry.
I hiked through the fire scar from last year’s Dakota Point Fire. It is amazing how quickly things are coming back. Most of the area where the fire burned had been thinned and the fire cleared out the undergrowth and while it did kill a number of trees, a lot of trees survived. The survivor trees will be getting plenty of sunlight and if they can get adequate moisture the forest will begin to look pretty healthy. The problem is the moisture. What rain and snow we do get this spring is soaking into the ground quickly. With very few needles or other duff on the ground, the ash and dirt are mixing off and the soil seemed rich and a bit loamy as I walked, but I know how quickly that can dry out with a few hot and windy days. Still, I suspect that there is plenty of seed in the ground and I expect to see a lot of green in a few weeks.
It is good for me to get out into the hills. There are too many weeks when I spend too much time indoors. It is easy to get disconnected from the life that surrounds us. A walk in the woods, even a short stroll, reminds me of the life that surrounds us and the continuing processes of growth and rebirth that are built into this universe. When I invest so much time in intense relationships with other people, I need to balance my life with times alone. Unlike the turkeys, I sometimes just have an urge to be somewhere by myself, breathing the fresh air, listening to the sounds of nature, seeing outdoor sights and smelling outdoor smells.
Years ago I discovered that certain writers can take me on outdoor adventures when, for whatever reason, I am not able to go outside. It isn’t really practical to go for a night hike every time I wake in the middle of the night, but I can reach for “Canoeing in the Wilderness” by Henry Thoreau or “Two in the Far North” by Margaret Murie or a novel by Ivan Doig or Seth Kantner and get back in touch with some of the wild and lest peopled places in the world. Reading about the outdoors life is no substitute for hiking on canoeing, but a good read can sometimes inspire me to get up and get out.
Each spring I vow to spend more time outside and to come closer to a balance between time alone and time with others, and each summer I am a little better at getting out than I was the previous winter, but a perfect balance eludes me each year.
The truth is that I think spring fever is good for me.
The yearling deer have something inside of them that responds to the nearly 70-degree days. I suppose they don’t remember the way we do, but it is hard not to do a little anthropomorphizing as I sit on my deck and watch them scamper around the yard. They run in circles, chase each other, raise their tails when there is not threat near and expend energy in a manner that seems to be playful. They’ll need those muscles to be toned and ready as they face the summer. They have to gather their own food and by mid summer they will be ranging farther from their mothers and will have to take more responsibility for their own safety and survival. Strong legs and the ability to run are the primary method of avoiding predators. Living next to a very busy road, we wish they could develop some traffic skills, but that doesn’t seem likely. It appears easier to train motorists to avoid the deer than the other way around.
The forecasters say we have a chance of rain later this week, but the percentages are low on the forecast charts. The land is dry.
I hiked through the fire scar from last year’s Dakota Point Fire. It is amazing how quickly things are coming back. Most of the area where the fire burned had been thinned and the fire cleared out the undergrowth and while it did kill a number of trees, a lot of trees survived. The survivor trees will be getting plenty of sunlight and if they can get adequate moisture the forest will begin to look pretty healthy. The problem is the moisture. What rain and snow we do get this spring is soaking into the ground quickly. With very few needles or other duff on the ground, the ash and dirt are mixing off and the soil seemed rich and a bit loamy as I walked, but I know how quickly that can dry out with a few hot and windy days. Still, I suspect that there is plenty of seed in the ground and I expect to see a lot of green in a few weeks.
Years ago I discovered that certain writers can take me on outdoor adventures when, for whatever reason, I am not able to go outside. It isn’t really practical to go for a night hike every time I wake in the middle of the night, but I can reach for “Canoeing in the Wilderness” by Henry Thoreau or “Two in the Far North” by Margaret Murie or a novel by Ivan Doig or Seth Kantner and get back in touch with some of the wild and lest peopled places in the world. Reading about the outdoors life is no substitute for hiking on canoeing, but a good read can sometimes inspire me to get up and get out.
Each spring I vow to spend more time outside and to come closer to a balance between time alone and time with others, and each summer I am a little better at getting out than I was the previous winter, but a perfect balance eludes me each year.
The truth is that I think spring fever is good for me.