signs of spring

We've been reading books and talking a lot about the signs of spring with the kids over the past couple of weeks. Some of our favorite books have been Spring Thaw by Steven Shnur, illustrated by Stacey Shuett; Sugarbush Spring by Marsha Wilson Chall, illustrated by Jim Daly; and "Raven and River" by Nancy White Carlstrom, illustrated by Jon Van Zyle. But it occured to me as we read and sing and search for crocus sprouts and swelling buds on the maple trees that there are more significant signs of spring to farmers in New England, that for some reason never get coverage in children's books. I thought I'd share these important things with you.

The Top Ten Signs of Spring on a New England Farm:

1. The mud is up to the top of your boots, no matter how high your boots are.

2. The sheep, who have looked like they were immenently going to go into labor and produce quintuplets back in January, STILL have not given birth and all look like they are going to explode rather than actually produce lambs. Interestingly enough, in all the years we've been doing this, we've yet to have a ewe actually explode, or give birth to anything more than triplets (and even that's been a rare occurance, it's usually twins).

3. Little dead rodents start appearing on your doorstep every morning, courtesy of the barn cats who have been waiting all winter for the small critters to come out of hibernation so they can slaughter them, then regift them to us in exchange for a bowl of cat food.

4. The chickens can't seem to say in the barnyard. Suddenly they're in the front yard, the pony pasture, the neighbor's yard, the woods, the garage, and occassionally, tragically, the dog yard.

5. The dogs find all sorts of disgusting half-rotted things from the previous fall to unearth and drag into the house.

6. The ducks start beating each other to a pulp. I could never understand why this is, but male ducks apparently think the greatest show of affection is to pulverize the objects of their obsessions. Makes me wonder how the species even survives with that strategy.

7. Bugs. Oh, they're not here yet, but I can almost hear the long-dormant eggs just waiting for the first truly warm day to hatch in unison. As a good friend of mine who has lived in a lot of places, but never New England, said when she came to visit a couple years ago: "It sure is pretty, but it looks like a mosquito swarm waiting to happen." That pretty much sums up late April through mid-September here in New England.

8. The frost heaves begin to settle back into the earth from whence they came. You'd think that would result in those fence posts, that were thrown assunder when they first sprang up, to settle back into place, but somehow it just causes them to become further displaced so that the fence line looks something like a half-folded fan, and none of the gates latch properly. Rehanging gates and restringing fence wire is a long-standing New England Spring tradition.

9. Accidentally breaking that egg you found behing the hay bales, which has no doubt been there for months if not years, produces a unique aromatic experience unrivaled by anything except:

10. The skunks come out of hibernation. Apparently there is a direct line from wherever the skunks hibernate to wherever they'd like to go when they first wake up that runs right through the center of our dog yard. The fact that the yard is entirely fenced, and that there are a half dozen dogs on the other side, doesn't seem to deter them, and as they desperately try to dig under as the dogs are desperately trying to make them cease and desist, they let out their dastardly perfume to remind us all that spring has, at last, arrived.

Ahhh, spring in New England!