a man and his hoe

The calendar says it is April 20, but the snow falling in the foothills makes me wonder what month it is?

Blooming mustard says it is May, but we saw a flock of snow geese yesterday so it can’t be that late. And then this morning, thick frost painted the grass.

And here I thought we were way past the last frosty morn. Even the tips of the tulips had tiny ice droplets on them.

So what month is it? Though I’ve seen tulips with heavy hats of snow on them. A fairy dusting of frost soon melts away.

Pink weeping cherry blossoms tell me that it is April, so the calendar isn’t misleading me when it says April is in its last third. These weeping cherry trees don’t weep in Japan. They are called “Drooping branch cherries” 枝垂れ桜 – 枝 branch 垂れ drooping 桜 cherry.

And the billowing white clouds I saw yesterday say that May is just around the corner.

Even in death a single cherry blossom is remarkably beautiful. Half or more of the cherry blossoms have fallen from the tree. The wind whipped them into a blizzard the other day, scattering them far. Underneath the tree, they form a river of white.

They are as lovely off the tree as they are on the tree. There is no wind today. No clouds. No rain. There will be no blizzard of cherry blossoms on this quiet, cloudless, morning. A perfect day to hold a funeral for this year’s blossoms. Short, short lives to celebrate.

Frost tinges the grass this morning. A very late frost. No more bumblebees tickling their anthers or humming bird tongues licking their nectar. Cherry blossoms live but a week or two but impart wonderful memories that last a lifetime. When they are long gone, all I have to do is close my eyes and see them floating like clouds against a blue sky.

Now it’s the white plum blossoms that are opening. Followed by the pears, the fruiting cherry trees, and the apples. So the bumblebees and humming birds won’t go hungry. Not this year.

The cherry blossoms are in full bloom. They started opening a week ago, slowly at first. But on the first warm day, March 24, they all popped open at once. Warm? Not really. Warmer is more like it. Has it really been warm yet this year? That’s debatable. The bees certainly don’t think it has. They are still fast asleep in their dens and wintering hives.

Bees buzzing about is a sure sign that it is actually warm. This year the cherry blossoms will bloom without swarms of bees buzzing about. And the forecast is for clouds and rain through April 6. Some sun is forecast to appear on the 7th. But still no warmth to speak of.

So the cherry blossoms will probably have floated away before it warms up enough for the bees to buzz about.

Wet, cool Marches and early Aprils seems to be a trend. It’s been a number of years since we’ve had warm, dry weather when the cherry blossoms bloom, and swarms of buzzing bees so loud that you can hear them long before you reach the cherry tree.

Down in the valley, fields of daffodils cover the valley with brilliant yellow carpets. They stretch for as long as the eye can see. The swans are still about, though not for long. What do they think of these daffodil fields when they go flying overhead? Do they cock they heads to look at them? A week or two and they will be gone. It doesn’t give me much time to ask them.

Sunrise on a calm spring equinox. It happened here at 8:33 this morning. Yesterday’s pouring rain lifted and there was blue sky behind the clouds this morning.

At 8:33 this morning I decided to look online to see at what time the solstice happened today and was surprised to read it was happening now, at 8:33 in the morning. How fortuitous was that?

The drab winter colors are changing to spring’s wonderful hues. Soon, winter will be but a memory. Each night the frogs sing louder at night. Every day there are more birds flying in.

This spring, wood ducks have taken to eating the ducks’ feed and hanging out at the pond. They’re getting used to my presence and don’t automatically fly off screaming when I show up.

What do our ducks think about the wood ducks? For the most part they leave them alone. At first there were just a few wood ducks, then five, then ten, and more. But they are nowhere near as plentiful as the snow geese having their last grazing on the pastures in the valley.

The snow geese have yet to leave for Alaska and Siberia. On Friday a huge flock of them covered much of a pasture on the way to the post office. Flocks of snow geese, herds of swans, those are winter scenes that will be gone in a few weeks. But new, wonderful things, cherry trees in full bloom, potatoes sprouts, and spring rainbows will come. It really feels like the spring equinox . From now on there is more light than dark, more warmth than cold.

Spring unfolds slowly in the Pacific Northwest, which means there is more time for spring surprises. It should be no surprise that daffodils bloom in spring. Yet when they do it’s always a pleasant surprise.

A friend raises alpacas and she’s generously shared alpaca beans with me. They’re great for enriching the garden soil. Unlike many other types of animal droppings, you can use them directly without composting them. Their low nitrogen level won’t burn plants. Neither do alpaca beans contain weed seeds.

I spread some alpaca beans around some flowers and was surprised to discover that the dogs thought I had liberally spread dog treats all around just for them. They had a feast.

So if you raise alpacas and wonder what to do with all their droppings, try drying them out and giving them to your dog loving friends as dog treats. Put them in pretty bags and don’t tell your friends what they are until they beg you for the recipe. Your friends might disdain you, but their dogs will love you forever.

The sign says “No Parking” but the snow geese pay no attention. Huge flocks of snow geese covered pastures in the north Skagit River delta today. A few more weeks and they will be off, on their way to the Arctic.

There should be more sunny days, so when they come along, they are a pleasant spring surprise. It’s the beginning of potato planting season. Seeing their first leaves poke out of the ground is always one of spring’s pleasant surprises.