Reflections on the Second Week of Spring

Since Groundhog Day, I've been waiting for the first spring flower. This week I searched for other signs of spring too. Robin songs woke me at 6:20. A dusting of morning snow melted quickly under blue skies. Sprouts made green fuzz on fall-seeded fields. Buzzards hovered. Shrubs blushed in red buds. The bottom step of the porch appeared from beneath snow. And, when I was driving carefully to avoid slipping into the deep runoff ditch by Hutch's house, a caravan shared the narrow road–escort car; white department of natural resources truck with five gallon buckets hanging on the sides; and eight trailing vehicles. The tag-along drivers were watching which hatchery fish were stocked under what bridges–a Deer Creek sign of spring. Desperate for a spring photo, I rode with Spence to our friends' farm. Dogs barked, Spence chatted with folks, and I pointed my camera at galvanized buckets on maple trees. Curious, I peeked under a metal top to see the spout. Drops of sap grew on the edge then pinged to the bottom. Aroma of manure covered any chance of discovering if sap had a fragrance. Later, we found the first daffodil buds. But fulfillment came Saturday evening. I sat in the middle of Creek Road next a neighbor's front bank and photographed snowdrops–the first spring flower.