As usual, spring in Michigan is a mixed bag. Since we had 60 (15.5C) degree and sometimes higher temperatures in February we were owed several days or even weeks of temperatures in the 30s, (-1.11 C) sometimes lower, in March. With wind and snow to make everything feel extra special.
Still, signs of spring persist even here.
The first sounds of spring, the thing that solidifies the concept of spring for me every year, are the red-winged blackbirds. They announce their arrival loudly with a very distinctive call.
Feathers puffed up to keep warm in our 30 degree windy spring mornings.
I usually hear them before I see them. But a day or so after I hear them singing over in the swamp they will have found my feeder. They come in mass and gobble up everything, much to the dismay of the smaller birds.
“Hey! Do you have food over there?”
They’ve been around for a few weeks now and are disgusted, just as we all were, with that last snow storm.
And when I see my goldfinches start to turn yellow – well – than spring is well and truly on the way. It seems that one day they are all olive drab, and the next day the males are sprouting gold spots.
Diving for goodies fallen from the feeder
And then suddenly those show-offs are entirely, brilliant, yellow.
Almost in full summer uniform.
In fact yellow seems to be the color of spring. Between the daffodils, which are the only spring flowers we can have due to our hardy deer population…
Evening light warms up a chilly spring day.
…to the forsythia in the back yard…
Ok, the forsythia isn’t in bloom here yet, I forced a few sprigs of it to brighten up my kitchen.
…to the cowslips in the nearby woods…
A definite sign that spring has sprung.
…if you see an abundance of yellow around these parts you can almost guarantee spring has sprung.
No guarantees in March, no siree, not around here!
Almost.
Thanks, Karma, for hosting this photo challenge! I remain hopeful that that last snow was our last snow. If you know what I mean.
It was sunny and cool on Wednesday, the perfect day for a sheltie-girl. Penny and I were walking through the back yard, she focused on her beloved birds flitting among the feeders near the house, me remembering, as I often do when I’m in the back yard, Katie’s last moments there.
I remembered walking with Katie into the house when the vet arrived. I never thought, in the moment, that she and I would never walk into the house together again. I remember walking with her, the vet and my husband, through the backyard to a pretty place under the birch trees, the sky blue like it was yesterday. I never thought, in the moment, that she wouldn’t be there to enjoy her yard ever again.
But now, often when I’m out there, I think about those moments and the bigger picture and I miss her so much.
You OK, mom?
Meanwhile Penny was laying at my feet, intently watching the feeders, when she heard me sniffling and looked over her shoulder at me, concern in her eyes. Then she popped up and put her front feet on my hips, head tilted inquisitively. I reached down and lifted her into my arms for a hug.
My sensitive girl knew.
Then I put her back down and we both ran joyfully back to the house, her attacking my ankles, me laughing. And somewhere over the rainbow bridge Katie smiled.
Last week we got our first significant snow of the season. We’d been enjoying unseasonably warm weather for most of December and January, while at the back of our minds we worried about our landscaping that needs a blanket of snow to survive until next spring.
Mr and Mrs Cardinal dine together at our windy, snowy, deck railing.
A definite benefit of being retired is that we don’t have to worry about commuting to work in a blizzard. If we don’t want to go out we don’t go out. It’s just one great perk of getting older.
A little chickadee tries to warm up with some suet.
Sometimes we forget there are benefits to aging.
Two female European starlings unsuccessfully try to share what’s left of the suet.
Anyway, I digress.
After days of warning from the pessimistic weather folks the storm hit us very early on Friday. First there was rain, then ice, then snow.
A male downy woodpecker impatiently waits his turn.
Early Friday, while taking the dog out for her morning ritual and stepping carefully down the icy driveway in the dark, we noticed a neighbor mincing his way down the street with his dog.
Mrs Cardinal desperately tries to figure out how to get to the suet.
Of course we went out to road to talk. Penny got to kiss Oliver, (the dog) who is somewhat besotted with her. The neighbor said there were some trees down up the road. I said I hadn’t looked out back yet.
A blue jay uses his tail for balance in the wind.
As the morning filled with light I saw that we, too, had some bending trees, some limbs down, the typical damage we usually sustain in an ice storm. I sighed. Little by little our birch trees are coming to the end of their lives.
A chickadee launches after his meal.
We’ve lived here over 30 years, I guess it’s expected. Nothing lives forever, right?
A disgruntled goldfinch.
Throughout the weekend the snow came down, blowing sideways from the northeast. We made very limited trips outside, only for doggie necessities.
Mrs.Redbelly shows off her pink tummy.
Mostly I sat in my chair with a view of a couple of our birdfeeders, watching the frenzy. And eventually, over the weekend, I got a few shots of the birds frantically eating, puffed up, trying to stay warm.
You can see the purple and green in her feathers.
I had to fill all the feeders, the thistle, the oiler, the peanut, the suet, at least twice a day. I even spread extra oilers on the deck railing, and under our rocking chairs that are turned upside down for the winter.
The colors on the back of the blue jay are beautiful too.
Little birds, and bigger birds too, were everywhere. As the food ran out they waited anxiously in the trees, coming down to wait closer as soon as I’d step out the backdoor. My birds know I’ve got their backs.
Even the dark eyed junco, who usually likes to eat on the ground, was hungry enough to try the twirling suet feeder.
And I know you’ve all seen photos of my birds at the feeders before. So in this post I tried to show you more unusual shots, a little attitude, a bit of wing.
It was a busy, windy, weekend!
I feel very lucky to be able to sit in my chair by the window and watch the entertainment happening just on the other side of the glass.
I’m supposed to be sharing with you images of my short camping trip to Michigan’s UP. And I will…really. But this morning as I was busy washing dishes I happened to look out the window and, surprise, this guy was standing on our deck railing.
This is a green heron. They fish in the pond across the street, and they used to nest every summer in the vacant land behind us. But there’s houses back there now.
I haven’t seen the green herons all summer, nor last summer either that I remember. So this was really special and I just had to share him (or her) with you!
Change Is Hard 