Each year there is a point in late January when I leave the office to go home and realize it’s 6 PM and there is still light in the sky. It’s the moment I know I’ll mentally make it through the rest of winter because the days are tangibly getting longer.
This year, Indiana was having a reasonably mild winter but then February brought weeks of a polar vortex and with it single digit highs. Because it stayed so cold, whenever it would snow, the snow didn’t melt, which is unusual for us. Then, over the course of two days, between 10 and 12 inches of new snow fell and stuck around for over a week. It got pretty old, pretty quick.
I kept the bird feeders and heated bird bath clean and full, creating and then following the same path through the snowdrifts that were deeper than my boots were high. But my birds were happy. They fluff themselves up to hold in their body heat when it gets really cold and as the winter storm approached, there were lots of puffballs perching on the feeders and branches. I especially loved the bluebirds, who also were oblivious of the air temperature and frolicked in the birdbath like it was 80 degrees.
The polar vortex finally left and we were gifted with a few 60 degree days and I’ve been wearing sandals to work ever since, willing the warm weather to stay. I also took the opportunity to reposition and fortify the bases of the feeder poles, power wash everything, and put it all back together. As I was working, out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed something purple and looked over to see the crocus in bloom all over the front yard. They are the light at the end of the long winter tunnel.
Soon it will be warm and humid, and I will be back to hunting slime molds and fungi, wishing for cooler weather to kill off the mosquitoes. But for now, I will take all the signs of spring I can get, including losing an hour of sleep when the clocks “spring forward” in a week and a half.
