Dakota Beacon

Last week I caught myself gazing lackadaisically out of the kitchen window, cup of coffee in hand. Chickadees and sparrows struggled at the feeders in the wintry world trying to overcome yet another clipper blowing from the north. The houses across the way stood stark and gray. One little critter, with his rump pointed north, took a gust under his feathers and flew off.
Two and a half months ago I had sugar plums dancing in my head. As he world turns, visions of spring now do the dancing. Yes, indeed. Spring, officially at least, is just around the corner.
My gaze turned from the winter scene before me to the calendar on the kitchen wall. Where does the time go? I note the fine print on March 9. Daylight saving time! Holy cow! Some genius with too much time on his hands figured we might "save energy" by starting daylight saving time earlier than ever. So, March 9 ushered in a change.
Then, a week after daylight saving time commences, we celebrate my name's sake -- St. Patrick's day. There's a date worth remembering.
Three days beyond St. Patrick's Day spring officially arrives. Hallelujah! It's official. I may be shoveling snow, but it will be with good cheer. The end of winter is almost here.
Four weeks hence comes Palm Sunday and Passover; then Good Friday and Easter.
Wouldn't you know it? Donation Day, April 15, arrives right in the middle of Holy Week. "Sam" graciously gave us Holy Week to tidy up our contribution.
Immediately after Easter, and one week after Donation Day, we are blessed with Earth Day. That's the day wherein all who are so inclined may worship the false goddess Mama Gaia.
I'm counting on at least one more snowstorm to arrive in April or early May just before the arrival of the real Mother's Day. After that we can kiss Ol' Man Winter goodbye.
So much for perusing the calendar. But, who needs a calendar? Spring is coming without fail and I don't need an official designation to know it. I can feel it. I can almost smell it. Even a casual observer can see Nature's handwriting all around.
I'm guessing that within a week or two the Great Migration will commence. Song birds and fowl begin moving north. Incredible!
Weeks of cold weather lie ahead, but those weeks will be punctuated with days of warm sunshine. It won't be long before the runoff starts. First a drip, then a freeze, then a trickle. Before you know it rivulets and streams will fill potholes and dugouts with snowmelt.
The raw winds of March and April harbor seeds of hope. It won't really be winter, but it won't be summer, either. Still, the breeze holds the promise of better things to come. That is, of course, unless the breeze speaks a lie and carries with it a spring blizzard.
You know spring is on the way when farmers and ranchers reach for the obstetric chains. Calving time will be here and gone before you know it.
Then comes the first rain in lieu of snow and with it the smell of fresh earth. Even before tractors begin their pilgrimage to the fields spring offers its wonderful aroma.
For town's folk, spring means checking the lawn mower (Can you say "lawn mower?") and raking winter's debris. Spring waits for no one, and if you tarry you'll need a grazing herd to clean up the early grass.
Returning to winter's reality outside, a line by Alexander Pope runs through my mind. "Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never is, but always to be blest." With spring just around the corner I get his drift.
We live by cycles, we die by cycles, as round and round we go. There's a brighter day a-coming and thankfully so.

Dennis M. Patrick can be contacted at P. O. Box 337, Stanley, ND 58784 or (JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).