Mapping the Way to Spring, by Sue Norvell

Leave in Winter, February, right around Valentine’s Day. Check the forecast, poke in the snow by the fence line. Here’s the first sign pointing toward Spring: green shoots just barely above the frozen soil. (How do they do that?) The snowdrops are coming.

The Juncos become restless. Instead of feeding placidly in small flocks, they chase and dart in among the neighbor’s hemlocks. The flash of white tail feathers is unmistakable. This is the second marker.

Proceed straight on through the weeks to March. The male Cardinal sings, claiming our feeder as his personal territory, an area he has willingly shared all winter, ‘til now. He’s sung this song, fitfully, since early January as the light shifted, but now he sings in earnest, chasing younger birds who audaciously challenge his seniority.

A late snow blankets everything, but soon melts. The barberry bushes, so heavy with red berries last week have been stripped clean. Cedar Waxwings? Robins?

We’ve nearly arrived. Follow the signs. Spring is just ahead, just around that corner. I’m sure I can see it from here!