Spring Migration

March arrived in Nebraska. Gray clouds draped the sky. Trees stood tall and bare. The grass lay brown and dormant. Winter’s icy grasp clutched the earth and signs of spring seemed distant. 

And then…

“Mom! Mom! Come quick! Come quick!”

Every time I hear those words yelled in a high-pitched tone, my adrenaline surges despite a tiny voice reminding me that it is scarcely ever an emergency. I ran down the stairs to find my oldest, Big, kneeling on the couch, staring out the picture window. Not an emergency. She pointed towards the sky, “Snow geese!”

Everyone sprinted to the window. The sky filled with thousands upon thousands of snow geese. The whir of wings and choruses of honks greeted our ears. The geese flew from the Platte river and headed northeast. We rushed to the other side of the house to get a better view. For minutes on end we stood at the sliding door watching in awe at the sheer number of birds in the sky. Their strong wings beat in cadence, heads stretched toward one goal. Spring drew near and their God-given instinct drove them toward breeding grounds in the tundra of northern Canada and Alaska. 

The flight of the snow geese marked the beginning of our first spring in Nebraska. My heart sang at the notion that winter’s end was near, but I also cautioned myself that spring’s warmth and greenery was still weeks away. 

***

Winter is my least favorite season. I don’t mind the cold around Christmas and New Years. I enjoy sledding with the kids. But then I’m done. The stillness of icy days loses its appeal. I miss the sunshine, the warmth, and the riot of color and life found in the other seasons. I’m ready for the waiting season to end. 

Winter arrives in Nebraska about four weeks sooner than Kansas City. It departs about four weeks later. I knew this when we moved and steeled my summer-loving soul for this reality. Still it seemed wrong that the grass wasn’t green in March and the daffodils weren’t blooming for Big’s birthday.

This year I have a better idea of when to see those subtle signs that the earth is awakening from its slumber. I’ve been waiting for the geese to arrive. The rivers and nearby sandpits make the area an ideal stopping spot on the Central Flyway. Over the last few weeks I’ve noticed an increasing number of ducks and geese, some in the air, some on the lakes, and some in the fields, but nothing like last year’s enormous gaggle. Sandhill cranes migrate on an unchanging path west of here on the Platte River. Are geese similar? Is their path always the same? Will we see the numbers we saw last year? What’s normal? I’m curious.

***

Two weeks ago Big rushed into the house, “Mama! Mama! The robins are back!” 

I looked out the kitchen window and, sure enough, six or seven birds hopped around the yard. A puddle on the sandbox cover offered a perfect watering hole for them. The first robins of spring. It was February 28th. 

Later that day, snowflakes dotted my windshield as I shuttled Big from band to ballet. I laughed to myself. Winter may try to hold on but spring is coming. The robins have arrived.

The next Monday, Kirk left home early to head out to the farm. Little, my youngest, woke up unhappy that he had missed Daddy. 

“Do you want to FaceTime Daddy and say good morning?” I asked. He was too sad and sleepy to reply rationally. I called Kirk.

“Did you see the video I just sent you?” As he drove the 13 miles to the farm, thousands of Canadian geese flew overhead stretching as far as he could see south to north. “I don’t know if you can see it from the house. They are about a mile east. It might be worth your time to jump in the van and drive out to the highway.”

We were just getting going for the day and not handling the Daylight Saving Time change well. The thought of coaxing sleepy kids into boots and coats and hauling them off to see an impressive flock of geese before breakfast seemed foolish. I settled for the video instead. 

Later in the day the kids and I watched several other flocks of geese fly over our house. Nothing like what Kirk had described but still exciting. That evening Kirk arrived home and reported that the pond just north of us on the highway was white with snow geese. Spring migration is well underway in Nebraska.

Winter will pass. Spring is coming. Until then, I will slip into my favorite wool socks and marvel at the spectacle overhead. 

***

Has spring arrived in your backyard? What hints of spring do you notice first?