Sometimes, one has to be a bit creative here in the Frozen North when identifying the actual arrival of spring. Mother Nature is rather fickle, throwing in some 40 degree lows and keeping gardeners poised to protect tender plants.
That's right--I said 40 degrees. Farenheit. Kind of cold, you say, for the edge of June?
But yesterday, I had proof that the season has truly arrived. As I was driving home from an errand, I found myself at the end of a long line of stopped cars. In the right lane. There was no turn, no accident...
It was geese. Half a dozen Canadian geese waddling across the divided road with a good two dozen of their adolescent goslings. Unlike baby ducks, which are tiny little puffs of downy cuteness, baby gees are gangly, with disproportionately long necks and short bodies and wings. When standing with neck extended, the new geese are as tall as the adults, but covered with a grayish-yellow fuzz that spikes and clumps. They look for all the world like teenage boys at the end of a growth spurt.
They get tired too, like teenaged boys. One of these fledglings just couldn't keep up the pace, and settled down in the middle of a traffic lane, tucking its bill against its chest and closing its eyes. The adult assigned to prevent stragglers did something--I didn't see what--and the sleepy one made it all the way to the meridian.
Yes, it's wicked cold here for far too long. On the other hand, we all stop for the babies.
Photo source from here.