Mar 12 2025
Prelude to Spring
With temps shooting into the 50s yesterday afternoon, I pulled on my boots and went for a walk on the nearby Rail Trail. The sun shining through a mostly clear sky hastened the big melt-off currently underway. While there was still a thin layer of packed snow and ice on the trail, walking was easy. The punky ice and slush gave way with each step I took, and the slight imprint of my boot in the half-thawed earth of the exposed places made me smile.
Robins foraged along the edges of the trail. The nearby brook ran ice-free here and there. A gentle breeze rocked the naked branches overhead. The mildness of late winter air caressing my face came as something of a pleasant surprise. It’s not even mid-March – way too early to say winter is over here in northern Vermont. But I couldn’t help feeling that spring is imminent.
This morning I hear the unfamiliar call of some bird, or is it just my imagination? I step outside, binoculars in hand, glassing the trees for some newcomer. Temps are seasonably cold today, yet the sun burns with vernal potency, scrambling my thoughts. I had planned on staying indoors today and getting lots of literary work done, but now I realize that’s not going to happen. The natural world is awakening right now, despite the calendar, and I need to be a part of it. Are there any migrating birds moving up Lake Champlain yet? If so, which ones? There’s only one way to find out.
This morning early, I immersed myself in yet another long winter writing session, toying with my abstractions about the natural world. But now it feels like I need to get out there and mix it up with the wild. I need to get down and dirty with the reality of nature and witness the first hints of spring despite whatever cold temps and snowflakes may come during the next few weeks. I’m not being rational about this. Much warmer temps are only a few days away, and that’ll be a much better time to venture outdoors and celebrate seasonal change. But there’s no time like the present. Oh yeah, I’m a sucker for spring – even the slightest suggestion of it.
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