The other day (when it was considerably warmer than it is today!) I walked around the pond, hoping to see blue herons and other signs of life on and in the pond. The ice has gone, of course, and the water must be freezing. There were two ducks out there, paddling around and muttering to themselves as ducks do.
But no signs of blue herons, red-winged black birds or even the elusive Ratty von Muskratty who seems to be the guardian of the pond. As always during this time of year, the town has cut the vegetation way down so that the reeds, cattails, milkweed, rambler roses, asters, et al can rejuvenate.
There was no sign of turtles or frogs who no doubt are still snuggled down in the pond’s muddy bottom. But the trees are now full of fat buds, the silvery-gray pussy willows are out and there is a faint scent of the fecund earth turning its face to the sun.
I thought, ‘ah, well, it’s early days yet,’ and walked toward the gate. But just then, I looked down and to the right, and behold and lo—there were two little turtles sitting on a small log! They couldn’t have been bigger than a pair of English muffins, but there they were, with their little heads tilted up toward the sun. I admired them for a long time, and they seemed to enjoy the attention. I wished them well, and went on my way.
The weather may still be chilly, and we may yet get some intermittant snow, but Spring is here just the same. Hearing the peepers the other night and seeing those two little turtles is proof enough for me.