We’ve all got certain ones that send the message.
Whether you live in the sunny climes of the south and west, or the frigid cold of the north and east; we all have our “seasons.” And with those changing seasons certain cues which herald them in. Some are quite obvious, yet most are subtle and quite personal. Think about what ushers the changes for you. Is it earlier/later sunrises, warmer/colder temperatures, or is it simply the TV program line-up? Perhaps you” know” it’s fall when football season begins, or spring when the talk is of March Madness. Since our seasons are truly climatologically anchored, it makes sense that the natural world often provides the many of these cues. For the purposes of this entry; let’s focus on spring. (…hey, it’s MY blog and I have a memory to share)
What is a “season” anyway? I found this very informative website HERE, if you want more a comprehensive study. However suffice it to say that the season of winter = slightly less than 89 days, and spring is about 92+3/4 days. Now that’s all relative to your geographical location, and mindset. If you are trapped in a basement office with no windows, for your work day (like I am) the comings and goings of Daylight Saving time compounding the effects of SAD; you scarcely see the sun anyway. So any chance you get to interact with the natural (outdoor) world is sacred – any sign of spring a blessed occasion. Come on Punxsutawney Phil…you can DO it!
To put you (dear reader) into the proper mindset, allow me to regale you with a collection of wintry regional, meteorological data. Wisconsin climate is typically continental with some modification by Lakes Michigan and Superior. The average annual temperature varies from 39 F in the north to about 50 F in the south. The lowest temperature on record was minus 55 F, reported from Couderay on both February 2 and February 4, 1996. During more than one-half of the winters, temperatures fall to minus 40 F or lower, and almost every winter temperatures of minus 30 or colder are reported from northern counties. The greatest August to July snowfall total for northern Wisconsin from the years 1908-2006, belongs to Lac Vieux Desert at 161.5 inches. Between March 4-5, 1976 – Wisconsin was hit with a devastating ice storm - One of the worst natural disasters to hit Wisconsin in history. This incredible ice storm completely snapped hundreds of utility poles, downed thousands of power and telephone lines and totally destroyed many trees. Some ice accumulations ranged up to a phenomenal five inches in diameter on wires and limbs of trees. The excessive ice accumulations were in part caused by thunderstorms that rapidly built up the ice. High winds gusting to 60 mph made a horrible situation even worse. Up to 600,000 residences were directly affected by the ice storm and up to 100,000 people were without power during the height of the storm. Some rural areas were without power for over 10 days. The following counties were declared federal disaster areas due to the ice storm: Calumet, Columbia, Crawford, Dane, Dodge, Fond du Lac, Grant, Green, Iowa, Jefferson, Lafayette, Manitowoc, Ozaukee, Richland, Rock, Sauk, Sheboygan, Vernon, Walworth, Washington and Waukesha.
In my immediate neck of the woods on March 2-4, 1881 there was a blizzard which dropped between 2 to 4 feet of snow. Drifts piled to 20 feet. Milwaukee reported 28.5 inches. Between February 24 and March 20, 1881, Milwaukee received 63.7 inches of snow! On February 4-5, 1924 another Blizzard gifted some 20.3 inches at Milwaukee / 10 foot drifts. This event still ranks as Milwaukee's heaviest snowfall in 24 hours. Between January 3-4, 1982, a blizzard of 8 to 16 inches pounded the northwest suburbs of Milwaukee had 16 inches. Madison reported 8 inches. December 14-15, 1987 a blizzard (gusts to 73 mph) - Madison and Milwaukee had 13 inches of snow….had enough? Let me tell you, by March 21st I have, and am eagerly looking for my own personal signs of spring…groundhog or no groundhog!
My mother and I shared a common sign of spring. When the robins could be seen and heard singing their “spring songs” it was very close - even if the calendar said otherwise. When I was in her zip code many years ago as a younger person, the first one to see and hear that wonderful harbinger would immediately alert the other. When I had later relocated some 225 miles southward, the same sure sign was relayed via telephone. Since my proximity to the equator was just that much more of an advantage; I would usually be the one to make that call. This always seemed to brighten her spirits and give her hope. For me, among other positive things, I could finally take the rope down from the garage rafters. (just kidding…but it surely felt like that)
Little did I know that in the spring of 2007, my phone call northward, cheerily announcing, “We’ve got robins Mom!” would have been my last opportunity; for on Groundhog Day 2008 (what irony) Mom passed away…taking any chance of spring with her for that year.
Yesterday, just after 6:00 AM as I was walking the snow-covered path from the grocery store near my home on a mission for a few things; it happened. My hands full of plastic bags, my step taking me back to the house, I trained my ear ahead to catch a faint and growing sound. Surely it was much too early? I scanned the landscape for what I longed to see. There, in the bare maple tree a bit farther up the street stood a single American Robin, singing…singing, and singing its Cheerily, cheeriup, cheerio, cheeriup song. For some reason, hearing this magical (ordinary) sound on this cold February morning caused my heart to soar, and my eyes to weep; but it was time nonetheless. Without hesitation, I tilted my head upward and to the heavens above and emotionally whispered, “We’ve got robins Mom...we've got robins.”
I was (finally) spring.
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