About two weeks ago, I saw an earthworm on the side of the road. The next day, I saw a caterpillar and a fly. Walking down the road on an even warmer day, in front of my face, there were tiny winged insects. It got cold again, and I hope these creatures were close enough to shelter to hide from the freezing temperatures.

The ecosystem was getting ready to wake up. Chickadee song shifted to what I have always thought of as a mating call, a sure sign they think spring is here. A couple robins showed up, but the worm had hidden away, and the ground had frozen. I wonder what they found to eat.

A junco showed up at the bird feeder. Then, the flock of boat-tailed grackles arrived to take over the yard. They are graceful flyers, but they do come as a gang, chasing away some of the other birds who come back for the summer. They stopped once at the empty bird feeder.

Until the baltimore orioles come north, I will not be feeding birds. A black bear was sighted near Owen Sound, which means our local bears may be awake as well. I do not need a bear coming up to my kitchen window where the bird feeder was placed this winter.

When the orioles come, I will put oranges out on the hydrangea stems. I have a metal feeder on a tree designed for this, but chipmunks raid it so the hydrangea is preferable. And closer. I love to see the orioles up close.

As the snow melted in the front yard, lily shoots showed up. I was relieved to see them. I was not sure that we had enough snow cover before the polar vortex events this winter. I worried that perennials  would freeze, so I was glad to see that at least the lilies survived, hoped that bulbs and irises would come along in good time.

This week, I was dealing with raspberry canes. As I lifted and guided them, I realized that the buds are swelling. A sign of green to come. The rose of sharon tree buds are also showing a touch of green. I will have to check out the lilacs. On the farm, I walked by them every day and watched them swell in every thaw, pause, and swell more when the temperature rose again. Here, I have to leave my regular route to check them.

I hope the maple trees are holding off because once they bud, the syrup season is over. Though it has been such a long sap run, maybe producers are ready to be done for this year. And I suspect green will come quickly. On Sunday, I cut forsythia to force, worried it would not bloom for Easter. But by Wednesday, the buds were bursting.

Where snow drifted heavily in the back yard, a bank remains. Where the snow blower piled it, there is an icy pile. The rest is gone. As the driveway pile slowly melts, I see how much damage the heavy snow did to the line of cedars. Their lower branches were pulled to the ground even though I wrapped them. I will be spending time helping to train them upwards to return them to the beautiful shape they have had other years.

The streams that come down the escarpment have been running all winter, but they are full now, roaring after Wednesday’s rain. Above the hill, water is lying everywhere. Soil is thin on that part of the escarpment, cannot absorb much. The land is saturated by fall rains and winter thaws. Walking up there requires rubber boots. Eventually the water will seep through the  fractured limestone, be used by growing plants, evaporate, and walking will be much less muddy.

The turkey vultures arrived here on Monday. I saw them in town on the weekend, but they came just a little farther north early this week. Soon, the gulls will find their voice again. I am fascinated by how silent they are all winter.

With the snow gone, I am taking stock of the yard. There is a garden terrace that needs fixing. A bare space in the strawberry patch. Branches everywhere. The garden to-do list, a list I enjoy working through, is getting longer and the time to get at it is now.

Cathy Hird lives on the traditional territory of the Saugeen Ojibway Nation.