PRINT ADS

Spring might be still around the corner, but I heard her call Sunday and sampled a sweet taste of the beauty to come.

This year’s vernal equinox officially occurs March 20 at 12:48 a.m. But with the mercury tickling 50 degrees Sunday and the slow but steady sounds of dripping water from snow melting off our roof, it seemed like a perfect day for a walk in the woods.

Mother Nature has thrown us one of her long, hard winters and it had been a while since my wife, Sherry, and I had ventured out into the woods for a walk. I’ve been out cutting wood and doing other chores, but not out for a walk just for enjoyment.

Life for me sometimes seems to be a series of busy moments linked together by the relentless onslaught of time. It’s those moments that seem to dominate my life but they are rarely the ones that I remember the most. For me, it’s the rare quiet times in between the rush that stand out from the noise.

Sunday was one of those quiet times, a chance to take in fresh air, solitude and listen to the dying throes of winter while imagining the spring that is to come. The eternal optimist in me always sees spring as a season bursting forth with promise.

Two things were quickly evident as we stepped off our paved road and onto the fields. No. 1, the snow was still deep enough to fall into our boots and No. 2, the coat and gloves that I had on were unnecessary as our labors trudging through the snow quickly warmed us up.

Most of our early walk was uphill, so we stopped several times to rest. The pathways traveled by deer — who have been showing up in our yard on a regular basis seeking food — were very evident in the snow, as were the places where they bed down for the night. Rabbit and coyote tracks also dotted the landscape.

Our trek through the woods took us to one of our favorite spots, a location in a glen with a small stream and towering trees. In a few months, the ground will be covered with succulent ferns and wildflowers. On this day the stream was frozen over and the green forest carpet was only in our mind’s eye.

We walked along the larger creek, which had some ice, but was still running fast. We stopped along a pool of water created by one of the dozens of springs bubbling forth from the earth. The pool had green grass, bits of watercress and skunk cabbage bulbs waiting to emerge.

In the midst of these harbingers of spring I spotted something familiar. Lying in the shallow water was the shed antler of a small buck, which had probably stopped at the pool for a drink a few weeks previous. Its companion was probably nearby, buried under the snow. The spiked antler had the beginnings of two other points and later this year its owner will probably be a four-pointer or six-pointer.

I scooped the antler out of the pool, a memento of our walk. Our pants were now wet and it was time to head home, so we crossed the creek, followed a deer trail and were soon home.

Old Man Winter still has a few blows to deliver to our midsections before spring finally wakes up from her long slumber and eventually emerges victorious in the annual battle of the seasons.

But for a few quiet moments Sunday, spring gave me a tantalizing sneak preview. I can hardly wait for the main event.

Chris Hardie is publisher of the River Valley Newspaper Group’s weekly and shopper division.