As Usual, Spring Arrives Before Its Due Date

by admin | March 6, 2026 8:01 am

I skipped the gym a few days ago and went walking down the street across the county road from Three Geese Farm. My Beautiful Mystery Companion devised a 3-mile route not long after we moved out here nearly five years ago. When we first started walking this route;5, there were only three houses in this one-road rural subdivision. Four more have been built since, but there still is very little traffic. Canada geese were honking and flapping around on this breezy, warm morning. As always, buzzards circled overhead, biding their time. A couple of killdeers took turns hopping ahead of me, their distinctive two-syllable song warning of my presence.

As is typical, spring arrived in Northeast Texas well before the Ides of March or the official date of the season. The tulip trees began blooming in town about halfway through February. We do not have any tulip trees on the farm. Our first signs of spring were golden dandelions sprouting and blossoming at the entry to the shop and purple henbit spreading across the yard. The Carolina Jasmine along the backyard chain-link fence that confines the canines battled back after the February ice storm and sports lovely yellow blooms.[1]

The willow trees in Pancho’s Pasture were the first to display signs of foliage. A few others are showing signs of buds. The lone pecan tree in the side pasture, which has grown a solid 10 feet since we have lived here, will be the last to sprout leaves. I am worried about the large water oak in the front yard. Its two mates both died in recent years, victims of old age. Water oaks do not live as long as other types of oak trees. I paid my trusty tree crew to trim its dead branches last spri[2]ng, leaving it rather misshapen but still providing shade. I am skeptical it is going to come back this spring. Fingers crossed.

Both the zero-turn mower and the big orange tractor have been sent to their respective dealers to prepare for mowing season. After a full season of mowing, which will start next month when the wildflowers go to seed, the zero-turn’s blades need replacing, oil changed, belts checked, etc. It gets quite a workout mowing more than four acres every 10 days or so, running over roots and branches.

The tractor, newly purchased last summer, is getting its first oil change. I experienced a near-disaster with its predecessor when changing the oil. (I mistook quarts for gallons and grossly overfilled it. This led to it belching enough smoke to kill every mosquito within a half mile.) Since this is not my first oil-change screwup, I concluded it is worth paying the tractor dealership to send someone out to change Orange Crush’s oil and do all other needed maintenance. It is nice to know some businesses still make house calls.[3]

Willie and Waylon, our longhorn steer calves, are officially yearlings. They have largely given up eating the square bales of hay I have been putting out since November, now that the grass in their pasture is greening up. It looks like the fertilizer I put out has helped. The boys still come running when we shake the bucket with a scoop of range cubes in it, eager for some cow candy.

Not that she asked, but I was in no hurry for spring to arrive. I thrive in cooler weather, even when it is freezing. I have despised summer ever since my parents moved us to South Longview from New Hampshire in 1968. I can always add more clothes to stay warm. It is not possible or legal to take off enough clothing to keep cool. I do not have the physique of Naked Norm up in nearby Diana, who mows his place on 259 in the buff. Naked Norm is somewhat of a legend in these parts.

Spring in Nor[4]theast Texas can be cruelly brief, sometimes ending for all intents and purposes by mid-April. Summer now lasts about six months. I tolerate it, work outside in it while wearing tons of sunblock and a wide-brimmed hat. Likely, we will plot an escape to cooler climes after enduring a few months of hot weather.

For now, I will enjoy these mild days, watching the trees come back to life, flowers popping up here and yonder, quiet weekend afternoons reading on the front porch.

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