“Come out here for a minute!” I insisted the other night, when I let the dog out.
“Whaaat?” my friend asked, peeling herself off the couch and coming on to the porch.
“Listen!” Then after giving her a minute to do so, “Peepers!”1
Back inside, I texted my neighbor Anne. Just that afternoon we had passed on a walk and chatted about listening for them, but not hearing them yet.
Later that night I’d look at my phone and find a single word message from my friend Nic at about the same time. Peepers! (I think the exclamation point is required.)
Peepers are one of the signs of spring I anticipate each spring, another sign that we are through winter (even if we’re not quite ready to put away the snow shovels yet). Peepers have a natural antifreeze that helps protect them in this season of up and down temps where you can need a winter coat one day and be sitting on the porch in a t-shirt the next.
Snowdrops2 — One of the earliest signs, coming often with winter still clinging close. These flowers dance with the snow, appearing, getting covered, re-emerging.
Sugar shacks3 — These might be better classified as mud season delights, but they are a staple in my March survival kit. It’s not just the sweetness of the syrup, but the sweet steamy air, the community, the coming out of hibernation.
Peepers
Crocuses — I think squirrels or chipmunks planted some of mine, because every year I’m surprised by where they show up.
Daffodils — So sunny, so bright … I’ve seen them blooming elsewhere, but in my yard they are a little slower. I’m enjoying and anticipating.
Rhubarb4 — The red knobs are quick to emerge. Keep an eye on them, waiting for a crinkle of green to crack open. It’s happening! And once it begins it goes so fast.
The pre-dawn chorus — It’s still dark most days, when the birds start singing, and if you are trying to sleep it may seem a terrible thing, but if you are awake in the darkness, you start your day with this hope.
Forsythia —Our Easter tree was always pussy willows and forced forsythia. If you need something bright and alive right now, go cut some, put in water, wait for the sun to shine inside.
The smell of spring5 — Hyacinths now, lilacs later could be called smells of spring if you think floral, but what I mean here is the smell of damp soil, a sign the ground is thawing, a reminder that things will be growing again, that it will soon be time to plant again.
Garlic — I have rows of green Vs in my garden where I planted garlic last fall. The anticipation of garlic scapes (usually picked in June here) begins.
Going out without boots, coat, hat, mittens — Sometimes after a warm day or two, we take this too far and go out without layers we should have. I friend says we’re fooled by the weather. I think we are just desperate for it to really be spring. Oh, and the ease of it.
Buzzy conversations and smiles — Not every body likes to walk outside in January, so on those rare days early on when it’s warm(ish) and sunny, the days that get more frequent, when we get out of the house finally, we tend to gush about it.
Shifting energy —Things that felt stuck or sluggish in the winter often begin moving for me in this season, as the sap starts running and things start reemerging from the ground.
Foraging for fiddleheads and ramps — This one isn’t on my list, but I love the delight others find in it. Why not add sympathetic delight?
Activity at the Village Green — Village Green is both our local greenhouse and ice cream place. I know they are planting in there, getting ready for the season.
Gardening — I love getting my hands in the dirt, getting seeds in the soil, seeing a fuzz of green a bit later. Right now it’s mostly talk: What are you planting? Do you need/have seeds? Is it time to plant …?6
Lilacs — a sign of May and late spring when spring comes gushing in.
Peonies — We’re almost into summer when we see the showy blooms, but in early spring, their red tipped steps poke up around the time of the rhubarb.
Longer days — While I do not love the forced late light of the spring time change, I do love the daylight growing longer.
The greening — I love how if you watch closely you can see a haze of green emerge on the trees, become a veil or a full tunnel of green in some places.
And more … trillium, trout lily, mint and chives and other perennials greening up in the garden, pansies …
Last year my friend Mary Alice had a mud season party and asked people to share their favorite thing about spring. It may not surprise you to know that I did not stop at writing just one. There is delight in the name of the delights and in seeing what others notice and await.
What are your favorite signs of spring? What signs are you noticing right now or anticipating?
For those of you who don’t know peepers—or don’t know them by that name—spring peepers are an early auditory sign of spring. These small chorus frogs come out when it gets warm enough. Listen here. Maine Audubon reports that “males can peep between 3,000 and 4,000 times per hour for several hours. This can add up to a staggering 13,500 peeps per night.”
Fellow word nerds, there is a name for a lover or collector of snowdrops — galanthophile. I’ve been scattering this word about every time I see pictures of snowdrops.
If you do not live in a maple producing region, or like me did not grow up with sugar shacks, these are places where they collect and boil down sap to make maple syrup. Some offer pancake breakfasts during the season.
Rhubarb is commonly pared with strawberries, but if you haven’t tried it with blueberries or raspberries or mixed berries, you’re missing out.
Smells are hard to describe. If I say,"It smells like spring” do you have a sense of that? What about “It smells like snow”? (Hoping not to use that second one for many months now.)
I’m not quite ready to get into my garden yet, but it might be time for peas, I think, spinach, other hardy greens and “as soon as the soil can be worked” crops. I think the soil can be worked. I should go check. What are you planting this year?
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