Spring Peeks Around the Corner

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Spring is poking its head around the corner here at Three Geese Farm. In late February, the willow trees began budding out, followed by a few of the hardwood trees in the woods behind Pancho’s Pond. Driving to town, I notice the misnamed redbud trees (they are violet, or purple) are blooming nicely, while the tulip trees have already lost their exquisite blooms, petals carpeting yards along the way to work. Each day, more trees begin leafing out.

Back home, I replenish the backyard bird feeders almost daily, providing sustenance to the red-winged blackbirds, chickadees, cardinals, and an occasional blue jay who flock to it. I never tire of watching the birds, taking the occasional break from writing, or doing homework, to watch them from the large picture window next to my workspace.

The grackles make frequent appearances in the front pasture, hundreds of them descending suddenly, and leaving just as quickly. They spook easily, flying off with a whoosh if I open the front door. I managed to sneak up on them and get a photo through the window in my master closet, which also serves as my recording studio for the weekly commentaries I still produce for Red River Radio, the NPR affiliate for our region. I was getting ready to record a batch, which involves emptying my laundry basket, putting it on the chest of drawers in the closet, draping a towel over the top and pinning another towel inside the basket. This softens the sound, according to my producer. I am sure I look silly with my head poked inside a laundry basket blanketed by towels, speaking into a microphone while wearing headphones, but nobody is looking.

As I prepared to record a piece, I looked out the window and saw the grackles draped across the front pasture. They were unaware of my existence, so I grabbed my iPhone and got off several shots before they flew away.

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 I suspect we are not finished with winter. No hurry for it to end as far as I am concerned. Bring on another cold front or two! I would not mind a dusting of snow, just not another Snowmageddon. I do my best to savor every season, the changes that each one brings. (I must work on my attitude during summer, however.) On a recent springlike afternoon, with the temperature in the 70s and a constant southern breeze, I spent several hours on the tractor, cutting up fallen tree limbs and hauling them in the bucket to the burn pile. I took the ancient — and borrowed — disc harrow off the back and hooked up the box blade. This only took a few minutes, a vast improvement over the first few times I did this.

The box blade is used for smoothing out soil and gravel. I am still trying to get the hang of using it. I did manage to throw some gravel over a few ruts in the parking lot down by the gas well and get it somewhat smoothed out. YouTube continues to be my friend, as I watched a couple of videos to get tips. I have never failed to find a YouTube video on whatever I am trying to learn to do.

Driving the tractor is excellent therapy.

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Once again, I plan to put off mowing season until the wildflowers have gone to seed, about May 1. Already the front pasture is popping up with tiny white blossoms. Other types of wildflowers that I can only hope to identify with a plant app on the phone will soon arrive as well. Next fall, I am going to spread a thick swath of wildflower seeds along the fence lines of the front pasture, something I intended to do last fall, but time got away from me.

Time does that a lot these days. I look up, and another season is about to pass.

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