Spring 2018 or… Not. So. Fast.

This year, what folk like to say always happens but only occasionally does actually might. This year, the prairie will likely turn from winter to summer in a thrice. No gentle, glorious unfoldment of spring need apply.

Sure, at some point delicate flowers will bloom in detritus and blackbirds will call. That time's not yet. At this rate, humidity and biting insects might follow fast on the tender season's heels. There'll be scant chance to see the swamp through the trees before an abundance of everything obscures the view.

Of course, frogs will sing. Probably they already have, on one or more of a few sunny days when it wasn't also too near freezing. Like people, frogs jump the gun. In any event, I've not been there to hear. On the prairie this week last year, cacophonous frog song called me to the dance.

This week last year, swamp willows led the way for barely blushing oak savannas. Geese tended goslings.

In the swamp, Sandhill Cranes stalked while marigolds glistened.

At swollen water's edge, the wetlands popped.

Hillocks became alive.

The sun shone and a cold land warmed. As it should, on the prairie in April. Blackbirds called.

This week, on Sunday and Monday then again yesterday, it snowed. To date, April 2018 makes for a decent February pretty much any year. The only thing really happy in the garden is the lupine. That figures, as its seed came direct from the Northwoods.

As to those Northwoods, whose green face I savor best at first blush in spring, before this week word to fishermen awaiting the May opener was to not pack away the ice fishing gear. A couple varying feet of winter's ice still lay protected beneath a couple varying feet of accumulated snow and it'd be awhile, yet.

Then came the April blizzard of 2018. It'll be a while longer before ice fishing is over, I'd think.

A dear friend sent this dispatch from the front. It captures Superior at the Minnesota shore near Split Rock. I looked at the image hard and long for any sign of spring and found none.

                             ©PKucera

Better him than me I think, working the blizzard and no thought whatsoever of spring.

They say next week should be about "normal", I'll believe that when it happens. Today the prairie remains largely brown, sodden and chill, but at least I've a happy lupine for company.