It was Tuesday night. I had class in the big city, Mr. Muse was escorting his Wife #2 (our good friend) and three (or was it four) other ladies to see Journey in concert. I came home late after class and headed to the barn to do chores and as I stepped out the back door, I heard them. The Spring Peepers.
It’s Spring folks, and this one seems to be a Lion. Our temperatures have been flaky. We’ve had 70-degree days almost begging for the pool to be up – almost…. not actually… and we’ve had snow flurries, freezing rain, and rain. But, the signs of Spring have been around.
First, there is the woodcocks. I’ll wait while you finish giggling.
The American Woodcock. It’s not a pretty bird…. Okay, seriously, grow up. *laughs* Yeah, it’s a funny name. But, really, *clears my throat*, this is important. We KNOW that Spring is around the corner when we start hearing the woodcock’s calling in the trees. It’s the nasally, “peent” sound you can listen to at the above link. The woodcocks started up a few weeks ago, right about when the first daffodils started to poke above the soil line.
Now that the daffs are, in some cases, six inches or so high – the peepers started their chorus back in the trees where the water puddles deep. The neighbors were out starting to work the drier parts of their fields (I’d link to them but then y’all would know where I live and I can’t have that), but the peepers, they were singing. I contemplated sitting on the porch to listen for a while.
There were owls, local dogs, the peepers, the scent. Scent? Yes… the scent of petrichor. If you’re not familiar with the scent of petrichor (pee-tri-kor), that’s the smell of the air when the ground gets wet – usually after a rain. This is the stuff that needs to get bottled up and turned into scented candles, y’all. Right up there with fresh cut hay and blooming lilacs.
But, I digress.
Spring is not far away. I’ve got seeds started in the Aerogarden. The garlic (“Estonian Red” and “Russian Giant” varieties) is about as tall as the daffodils. My bananas are making me bananas and need to GET OUTSIDE. Also, I never, ever thought I’d say this… I miss my bees.
The warm weather has caused the bees to take some cleansing flights (aka they fly out of the hive to take a shit) and forage for what they can, but, I miss my bees!! My ladies! My girls! And, I’m anticipating the arrival of a new package of bees, fresh from the Florida orange groves, in mid-April.
The Amusing Muse is a writing in Southern Wisconsin with dreams of living in tropical locations as a proprietress of a rum shack on a beach. Drinking the profits isn’t besides the point. Also, there should be goats.