Coming Alive!

The mosquitoes are out, dammit. We've already had our seasonal introduction to blackflies. The blackflies not yet biting, behaving far better than the mosquitoes who seem to believe that since they're out and about they might as well take advantage of those moving warm bodies and tuck in.

Nice bit of synergy there, though; while it's the first day we've seen mosquitoes on the hunt, it's also the first day we've seen dragonflies flitting about hither and yon, sharpening their knives and forks for mosquitoes.

Noticed that where work crews had come in to saw apart all those wonderful old pine trees downed by that last big storm reputed to have been replete with mini tornadoes, the wonderful fragrance of pine, and the litter left behind appears to have attracted the presence of Mourning Cloaks; they have made the area a port for assignations where male and female meet, greet and twist together in a flighty dance of mating. The coltsfoot's modest flowers have withdrawn, the creek bank bereft again.

Serviceberries are now in full bloom. They're called Saskatoon berries out West, and there they're harvested, baked into pies, made into jam. Here, we appear simply to admire their brief fling with spring. The trilliums are up and flagging away, mostly the red ones, because we've so much clay in the soil around here. Last year we were delighted to discover a single white trillium among all the red. And this year, the single white trillium appears to have grown a family, of five.

The minuscule yellow woodland violets that simply fail to impress have now been joined by their larger, more lushly beautiful mauve-purple sisters, and they present as delicate bouquets on the forest floor. The squirrels rush about everywhere; the occasional fluffy grey, the more numerous black, and the adorable but extremely territorial red squirrels. We place peanuts within the holes of trees as we pass, on the outcropped branches, on top of ragged stumps.

And the wild strawberries too are in full bloom; their tiny perfect white-pink blossoms stippling the ground everywhere, promising a nice crop of wild berries in early-to-mid-June. The glossy green leaves of lilies-of-the-valley have cropped up all over the place, especially forming lovely rings around the base of trees in the ravine; their tiny tassled flowers won't be long in coming along. Trout lilies have raised their yellow starry heads, jostling trilliums for territorial advantage.

Ferns are unfurling all over the place, all different kinds of ferns. Those that remain fresh and green even under several feet of snow and ice have now been joined by all those other ferns that die down to nothing, slumbering under the soil until spring awakens their ambition to fling themselves into the world of the living in the endless cycle of birth, death and rebirth. The yew hugging close to the ground, reassert their living green presence.

The tender red buds of the staghorn sumach are beginning to emerge, and the stems of the plant are fuzzing up nicely. The wild apple trees are beginning to set their blossoms. The hawthornes, quick to lose their leaves in the fall, are in no hurry to bring them back to life in the spring; they tardily await more auspiciously warm weather. We saunter on, enjoying spring, life resurgent.