March in the mountains is usually a time of tumultuous wind, and erratic weather patterns, producing spring like days with lots of sunshine, followed by days, dropping into the pits of winter with snow. Branches flop together like the slapping of ropes on ancient sailing vessels. March winds make a wide variety of sounds from hissing to booming in a stand of maples.
The wisteria seeds have already popped. They explode like a cap pistol and then something like a small rock hits a window or a thump against the side of the house. The annual barrage of the wisteria seeds propagates the mountaintop’s ancient wisteria vine.
The seed pods are about half a foot long, brown, stiff, velvety on the outside and hold from four to eight seeds. Each seed I somewhat round, about half an inch in diameter, flat on one side and curved slightly, like an airplane wing on the other. They are hurled a good distance from the mother vine. What triggers the wisteria seed cannonading involves age, humidity and temperature.
The trees and mini-pools created by recent downpours are playing host to flocks of the harbinger of spring-male robins by the dozens. The females will follow in a couple of weeks. The early robins feast on left over fruit still clinging to the trees. Along with visiting cedar waxwings, the fruit will be gone soon.
Sap is beginning to rise, regardless of what the thermometer says. When sap starts up, it means spring is close. That moves man closer to the spring equinox, the buds and the leaves of spring itself. It also means winter has a definite end.
Each day the sun rises a little earlier and sets a little later signifying that earth is turning as usual, on its axis and in its orbit.
Twilight is one of my favorite times of the day. It has the glow of the departing day, giving it a special beauty all its own. It is neither sunlight nor star shine, nor moonlight. It borrows from all of them. The air of twilight is brittle this time of the year. But the light itself is soft and elusive.
Listen for the voice of the red fox with its sharp staccato notes in the darkness. The jays and crows of daylight are silent, ending their day at dusk. The great horned owl has a mournful wail, which is less ominous at dusk than it is at midnight. This prelude time to night is a special interval, enjoy it.
More and more birds join the pre-dawn chorus just at the break of day. There is nothing happier than an early morning wren and a tiny chickadee. They greet the sunrise with exuberance.
Male raccoons are courting females from now through March. Fox kits are born now. Screech owls are beginning to nest, and spring waterfowl migration is in progress. The northern migration of hawks is also in progress. Bluebirds are still scouting nest sites, and some have begun to build nests. Have you cleaned your boxes? It is time. Listen for the spring peppers to begin calling, Bear cubs are making humming sounds as they nurse in the dens. Watch for the reappearance of chipmunks on warm days. Male black bears will be and about by the end of the month. All herald a new season beginning to start.
Keep out plenty of fresh water for songbird bathing and drinking.
May you always hear the whisper of wings.
Photo: Tony Dills
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