March 27, 2025 The Beacon • 27
Sharing some favorite signs of spring in air, on ground
Probably seeing robins is the first sign of spring for most of us. This year we had one or two snowfalls after the robins appeared on our front lawn.
Clumps of snow drops on the bank behind our storage barn brought the most joy. They weren’ t planted or planned. Our neighbor Jeanne had them in her flower bed. They just hopped over to our yard, like magic, and grew in little clumps up through the dead leaves.
Speaking of magic, we have a much bigger clump of my favorite flowers: magic lilies. Right now they’ re a healthy bunch of long, green, floppy tongue depressors, among the dead leaves below our kitchen window. One day, and I’ m hoping to be home when it happens, we will suddenly have five or six tall stems appear overnight and have beautiful pink lilies.
At our place in the country, some things grow in clumps. An early-to-appear clump near our new garage is chives. There’ s a whole border of chives along the south wall of our old garage. You know what that means, don’ t you? Potato salad.
When we moved here 60 years ago, there was a big flower bed with tulips and crocuses, along with tiny grape hyacinths. Just when I was going to tell you we no longer have crocuses or tulips because animals ate all the bulbs, we spotted one white crocus tonight. That was a surprise.
How can I tell you about signs of spring without mentioning daffodils? At our place they are the most triumphant symbol of spring. This year, when I thought there were surely no signs of spring yet, it was the daffodils that said,“ Oh yeah?” The little green shoots were poking through the dead leaves, growing taller every day, in spite of the cold, budding and quickly blooming.
In past years we’ ve had some deep frosts that have wilted the daffodils, but here they are coming up as usual. Only there seems to be more of them on the bank below our deck. Daffodils have spirit. That’ s all I can say about them, except some of them are double, which makes them all the bolder.
What a thrill it is to see bluebirds from our kitchen window. Many years ago Glenn bought me a special Audubon Bluebird Box. Our brother-in-law helped him mount it on a post where it could be seen from our kitchen window. The wrens took it over.
Every spring, as soon as I saw bluebirds, I would clear out the wrens’ tiny twigs from the Bluebird Box so the bluebirds would finally use it. They never have used it. This year I finally left the box alone with all the tiny twigs filling it to the brim.
This afternoon I heard the most beautiful bird song at our bird feeder: a wren! You’ re hearing a lot about clumps of this and clumps of that. That’ s the way things grow and bloom at our place. Plus, you’ re hearing about all the beautiful things I see from our kitchen window. It looks out back of the house. I’ m thankful to have a window at our kitchen sink so I can look out back at all the things growing and happening.
I’ m reminded of a song,“ If Ever I Would Leave You.” Do you remember that one? Maybe it’ s from the‘ 60s. There’ s a line about“ It wouldn’ t be in springtime, knowing how in spring I’ m bewitched by you so.” I could leave this place in summer, or I could leave in winter, but not in fall and definitely not in spring.
Spring is the most hopeful season of all. It invigorates me to pick up all the sticks and branches that have fallen over the winter, then rake away all the dead leaves— unless we get that one good wind that blows most of them up into the woods.
Buzzards roost in our tall trees in the woods above our place. Plus, they’ ve been known to circle above our kitchen skylight, like they’ re keeping me in mind. Finally yesterday, I saw one soaring on high. They’ re back. Here’ s some signs of spring we haven’ t seen yet at our place in the country: Our forsythia hasn’ t bloomed. How many
times are we supposed to get snow after the forsythia blooms?
What I saw today was the surest sign of all: Our neighbor John was mowing his lawn. He takes pride in being the first one in our neighborhood to run the mower. We’ re always the last ones.
Soon we’ ll have violets on our front lawn and side lawns. Last year our lawns were covered with them. When they are plentiful, I’ m reminded of the delicate violet jelly Glenn’ s mother used to make. It takes a lot of violets to make it. I’ m often of a mind to tell Glenn’ s sister I’ ll pick the violets if she’ ll make the jelly. Pink and delicate is the only way to describe it— perfect for a tea party.
Along with violets are spring beauties. We didn’ t have them in Maine. We
have wonderful patches of them on our side yard. They grow close to the ground and have a white blossom. Running down the middle of each white point is a red stripe. How rich it is to have the ground covered with violets and spring beauties? I haven’ t seen any dandelions yet. Have you? They’ ll surely come. Ha! When I was a child, Mum would give us a penny for every tiny brown pennycandy bag we filled with dandelion blossoms. Did your mother do that? I haven’ t thought of that for years. We would hold a blossom under each other’ s chin to see if the yellow glow meant you liked butter. Did you do that?
I firmly believe the cure for cancer is in the lowly dandelion. God gives us dandelions in abundance.
We try every means possible to eradicate them. Well, most of us do. The cure for cancer is right here, all the time.
The last spring flower to mention is lilacs. They bloom here in late April, early May. During my childhood in Maine, my parents used to hope they would bloom by Memorial Day so we could cut blossoms and take them, along with quart jars and water, to decorate graves.
Another sure sign of spring I saw today was two guys wearing Bermuda shorts. One was a mailman.
Let’ s close this letter with a little ditty. I’ ll give you all the words except the last two. Next time you see me, you can tell me them.“ Spring has sprung. The grass is riz. You’ ll wonder where the whiskers is …”
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