Onion paper leaves cling to the oak trees even as this year's buds swell. Climbing the hill and looking through the forest, there is a green lace. Where branches were grey and barren, buds have broken and leaves have begun to grow. Soon, they will fill the canopy of the forest, but for now they are dots of green.
Among the brown leaves that are plastered to the ground, the speckled ovals of trout lilies poke through. Scattered among the small plants are a few yellow flowers just beginning to open. Nestled low to the ground is a cluster of round leaves and the purple of violets. Nearby, a few larger green ovals show where wild leek bulbs hide. Paths are green with moss. A tall spike with three leaves and a bud show where trilliums will soon bloom. There is a hint that the flowers will be white. Two days later, I find that one has bloomed a rich purple.
Grackles are tugging on long strings of grass. A robin flies into a cedar tree, its mouth full of bits that will build a nest. Chickadees are singing their mating song, and the chorus of cardinals is a delight. A pair of mallards are wandering around the property, unafraid of me or the puppy.
Along the road, lilies are bright green, growing quickly, a promise of orange to come. Grass is growing. Dandelions and colts foot are brilliant yellow. The leaves of other wildflowers are pushing up through last fall's leaves and winter's debris. The streams that come down the escarpment are running full, musical.
Above the escarpment, the ground is saturated. Snow melt and some rain keep the thin layer of soil wet. The earth is squishy in low places. Puddles remain. In the swamps, spring peepers sing.
A few butterflies fluttered on warm days in April. The south facing side of the house was covered in flies. Haven't seen a mosquito or a bee yet, but this week has brought the occasional swarm of black flies.
The forsythia bloomed about the time I first saw butterflies. The petals are beginning to fall, and the leaves are unfurling. The shrubs are wrapped in yellow and green.
Digging in the garden, I found worms active. Rain brought them out onto the road. They'll get back where they belong soon.
Peas have sprouted in the garden. I planted them in early April when we had warm days. I was afraid I would have to replant given the cold that came after, but they bided their time and are coming along well. Nearby, the garlic planted last fall is flourishing. Cold is coming again this weekend, but when the sun comes out, the herbs are going into pots.
Tomato and pepper plants along with impatience and zinnia and this year's experiment, cucumelons, will remain under the lights and on the window sills for a few more days. But soon, they will go out to get used to the brighter sun and fluctuating temperatures. Spring is underway.
Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway
