By Bill Bradberry
Ten days and counting! Official spring is just around the corner, but actual spring ... well that’s another story all together.
Scheduled to arrive here March 20 at precisely 7:04 a.m. eastern standard time, there are plenty of signs that it actually is on the way as are the Easter Bunny, Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, and Labor Day ... a lot to look forward to, plan for and a few things you can enjoy right now if you are paying attention.
Spring does not just happen, it arrives slowly but surely, and if you are looking for it in the right places, you can see, smell, taste and hear it getting closer.
Around my house, the signs are evident everywhere; from a bird feeder crowded with the brilliant colors of cardinals and blue jays, and tiny sparrows squabbling for position, to the thick brown mud that is slowly replacing the crusted white snow; spring is arriving slowly, but surely.
Most mornings I am awake by 5 a.m. I don’t always get out of bed that early, choosing instead on some bitter cold mornings to just relax and enjoy the quiet of the early morning before the sun rises and the city gets busy before I jump up and join the rush.
Besides my heart and the wheels rolling around in my head during the dark winter months when the sun sets too early and rises too late there is not much to listen to in the dark before day, but as spring slowly crawls in the sun perks up a little earlier and stays a little longer every day — the earlier the sun rises, the earlier I get out the door and head for the gorge.
Like the robins and wood peckers, the finches, wrens, gulls and soon, the Canadian geese, hawks, and turkey vultures will be joining in the cacophony that lures me to the Gorge Rim Trail, just a few steps from my little corner of the world.
Too soon to begin my morning hikes in earnest, I have in the past few days made my way across the concrete gift from Mr. Moses to the edge of the trail which is still a little to treacherous to travail.
There in front of me boasts the most amazing site, smells and sounds, the Niagara River teaming with more than 300 species of birds, 20 species of fish, over 50 species of mammals and all kinds of reptiles none of whom pay any attention to the Department of Homeland Security Border Patrol personnel headquartered a mile or so away at one of the oldest Stations in the U.S.
Patrolling an area that stretches more than 70 miles, these men and women, seen all year round in their bright green and white vehicles, and more often unseen using their high tech surveillance systems, have been around since the early 1920s.
As they say with well-deserved pride on their Web site, “Throughout World War II Niagara Falls Agents continued their regular patrol duties while assisting whenever necessary in the war effort. Patrolmen remained on high alert throughout the war years for potential Axis saboteurs attempting entry from Canada. Local patrolmen were also constantly aware of the existence of a prisoner of War camp for German Africa Corps prisoners which was located at Fort Niagara”.
So, in the very early spring, in the very early mornings we are among the very few things moving: Me, the birds and the border patrol, but as the season blossoms we’ll soon be joined by Niagara University joggers, early morning strollers and of course, hoards of hungry squirrels, the occasional raccoon and the less frequent possum.
This is the season I learned as a young boy to treasure, a warm-up to the coming summer when it would soon be almost too hot to enjoy without a popsicle.
As the winter snow receded in our big backyard, spring melted into planting season; time to plow up the hardened garden plots and prepare the soil for the vegetable garden which by early summer would yield the tastiest carrots, corn, tomatoes, rhubarb and strawberries around, though some of our neighbors sometimes mistakenly thought theirs were better.
Finally unbound from our heavy winter gear, we were free to run without buckled boots and mittens, anxious to take our bicycles out, shine them up and ride them as far and as fast as we could without getting into trouble.
All of those memories flooded my senses when I noticed that the real barometer for season’s changing ... the big box stores ... have replaced the snow blowers, shovels and salt with patio furniture, barbecue rigs, charcoal and gardening equipment.
They must know something we don’t, but I can take a hint.
I am going to start getting ready for my annual spring cleaning just like my mother did by moving the winter clothes a little closer to the back of the closets and opening the solid drapes on the windows as soon as the sun comes up in order to capture those warming rays so that I can turn the thermostat down a notch.
In another week or two or three, or possibly even sooner, it will be time to turn the furnace off and we’ll be opening the windows to let some of that fresh spring air into the house. Before you know it we’ll be basking in the sun and mowing our lawns.
Ahhh, spring ... a new beginning; baseball, politics and hot dogs! I can’t wait, can you?
By the way, don’t forget mosquito repellent. I think I saw it on sale on aisle 9 somewhere ...
Contact Bill at bill.bradberry@yahoo.com.
