A little over a week ago, we were suffering through below zero temperatures.  Old Man Winter was defiant until the end it would seem as snow and freezing rain gripped the upper Midwest, but still, you could see that his strength was waning.

Driving into work one blustering morning early last week, I noticed that geese first.  They were back on the small ponds and sloughs, making their way gingerly onto ice, but paired up and ready for the nesting season.

Later in the week, as the weather warmed even more, the small brood of turkey’s that used to strut down the road as I drove too and from work was back.  But their numbers had grown.  The small gaggle last week had given way to one more then triple the size this year.  Apparently, the harsh winter wasn’t so harsh for family of Turkeys - they all seemed to have survived the winter just fine.

Driving through Fargo last week - right after a fourteen inch snowfall, my brother gave me cautionary statement, “watch out on the roads, the fawns are out.”  Apparently, there are already reports too of fawns being out and about on the roadways.

Less then a week after the bone chilling cold of March gave way to days in the mid 60’s.  The last of the snow has retreated to the very shadiest parts of the yard in central Minnesota, while flooding, a sure shine that Mother Nature is upon us, is once again plaguing the Red River Valley of the North. 

Talking to Dad, the water was starting to flow on the Northern Prairies.  All that snow sitting under the how March sun - combined with the warming temperatures and now showers, all that water will make it quickly through the systems.  The fields are the first to melt off, with water pooling in sloughs and ditches, slowly backing up behind ice filled culverts, once the water starts to slowly flow through those culverts, before long it is a rushing torrent - heading towards the little Wild Rice River, which eventually feeds into the mighty Red.

I’m sure that Old Man Winter isn’t quite done with us yet.  There is bound to be at least one more snowfall, one last gasp from the old man.  One last cold spell - though perhaps cold being a relative term, may only mean a move into the teens instead of the moves below zero.

Perhaps the surest sign of spring is my tulips are sprouting.  Sure that I had killed them all last summer with some major renovations to my landscaping - and failing to replant the bulbs that I had plucked from the warm earth back then, I was sure that my flower bed would be barren this spring.  But they came back.  I’m not sure from where or from what, but there they are - stretching out to the warm spring sun.

Before long, those pairing geese will be swimming in the chilly spring water.  They will have their hatchlings out and about with them.

Those small deer prone to running out in front of cars will learn the wily ways of their parents and steer clear of the iron hunters of the roads.

Those crazy turkeys, so prolific, will cause my commute to and from work to be even slower then normal as their numbers grow.  But today, I don’t care…as long as spring is here.