I'm Really Ready for Spring

Across the Fence #486

Last fall, a government survey crew came to Ole’s farm one day and asked permission to enter his property in order to do some surveying. Ole agreed to let them do their work. When they were finished, Lena offered them coffee, along with an assortment of Norwegian baked goods and desserts.

After a long, bitterly cold, and snowy winter (sound familiar?), the survey crew foreman returned in the spring and told Ole, “Because you were so kind to us last fall, I wanted to come and give you this bad news in person instead of by letter.”

Ole replied, “What’s da bad news?”

The surveyor said, “Well, after reviewing the work we did here, we discovered that your farm is not in Wisconsin, but is actually in Minnesota.”

Ole looked at Lena and replied to the surveyor, “By golly, dat’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time. I was yust telling Lena dis morning dat I don’t tink I can take anudder winter like dis, living in Wisconsin!”

That pretty much sums up the attitude of most people as this long, endless winter begins to wind down. At least we hope it’s winding down. Someone asked me how cold it was at our place this morning. I told them it was 14 degrees when I got up. We don’t even bother mentioning that it was 14 below zero. Everyone knows you’re talking about below zero. It seems like just about every night has been below zero for the last month or more. It’s been brutal. Can you blame Ole for wanting to move and not spend another winter like this?

As I write this story on March 4th, Lent is about to begin. Ole and I have decided to give up winter for Lent this year. I’m not sure how this is going to work out, but it’s worth a try. In the meantime, I’ll have to deal with all the snow that covers the ground. This year much of that snow is packed as hard as cement. It must be tough for the animals to get around and find food. It’s also tough for the birds. The snow is too hard for the birds to break through and get at the food sources buried under it. Even the crows have been coming to our bird feeders and eating the seeds on the ground. I imagine a lot of birds have frozen to death this winter if they haven’t been able to find a source of food to keep their body temperature up at night. After all the money we’ve spent on birdseed this winter, I think we should be able to proclaim them as dependents on our tax returns. 

I’ve given up trying to keep a path open to the bird feeders behind the house and in the grove of trees next to the house. The drifts are too deep and the paths keep drifting shut every day. Now I just slip on my snowshoes and walk on top. This has been a winter where we have to adapt to whatever Mother Nature throws at us. Just roll with the punches. You’ll only get frustrated if you try to fight it. Mother Nature usually wins. 

It’s been a tough winter for the deer herd too. Every field seems to be filled with deer trails. They emerge from the edge of the woods, and criss-cross the snow-covered fields wherever we look. Some trails are like cow paths and I can picture the herd of deer following each other across the fields in search of food. One thing I’ve always loved to do is go in search of animal trails and signs after a fresh snowfall. Snowshoes allow me access to places that aren’t normally accessible in heavy snow. But now I’m ready to hang them up for another year and go looking for spring. I know it’s out there someplace, buried under all that snow.

Speaking of buried, last week as I drove by the spot where our old barn is now buried, I thought of the huge manure pile that used to be buried under the snow behind our old barn. A winter like this one, when it was hard to haul the manure out on the fields, created lots of extra work in the spring. Then we had to haul that huge pile to the fields, one spreader load at a time. My father didn’t have a skid steer or front-end loader on the tractor in those days. We used pitch forks to load the spreader. That was hard work. Spring break for a farm kid wasn’t lying on a beach in Florida… it was standing in the barnyard, surrounded by manure, not bikini-clad girls, and experiencing the wonderful, sweet smell of spring.

You know it’s been a long winter when you’d rather be back there pitching manure than shoveling another flake of snow. Uff da! I’m waiting for the day, along with everyone else, when we hear the sound of running water and know the snow is finally starting to melt. I might even celebrate by splashing through the water like a young kid and be the captain of a tobacco lath boat, as it sails in the ditch alongside the road. Spring and running water… I’ll be watching for them to arrive. Lets hope it’s real soon.

*