Road Trip Woes

I couldn't have picked worse days to travel to Montana! Going and coming home I drove right into the teeth of major winter storms....in May. My route followed Interstate 90 through South Dakota, Wyoming and Montana. That's the only way to get to Gardiner this time of year since the roads through Yellowstone are not completely plowed. And Interstate 90 was where the storms were centered. I ended up laying over a day in Spearfish, SD to avoid driving right into the center of a huge storm. This morning I left Rapid City, SD in a heavy rain/snow mix. Within minutes it changed over to all snow that eventually began accumulating on the road. The next 40 miles were a challenge! I almost pulled off the Interstate once, but soldiered on. Sure enough by the time I got to Wall, it was warm enough (33 degrees) that the snow became rain. I drove in rain all the way home. Not the most pleasant driving conditions for my road trip! But my time in Montana was wonderful....more on that later.

Spring Surprise

The room darkened. Thick clouds roiled overhead. A mighty wind blew leaves from the trees as if it were November and winter was knocking at the door. A splattering of raindrops dampened the sidewalk. Within minutes the sun shone again in the west. But in the east...a spring surprise. An arc of color shadowed by its faint doublet, complete, so big there was no way to fit it all into one photo. A pot of gold at each end. A reminder of the covenant, of spring, of beauty. All the colors of the rainbow, a gift to receive this day.

Signs of Spring

My friend, Laury, has been blogging the past few days about signs of spring in Cadrieu...blossoms, dandelions, rushing water from the lavoir. She's inspired me to share a few signs of spring from Red Bell Farm. The canopy of trees along the south side of my house lets sunlight dapple the deck. It's so pretty, and in another week, it will change to pure shade as the big trees become fully leafed out. While the lacy-ness of spring will be gone, the shade of summer will help keep the house cool during the hot months ahead. I, too, have delegations of dandelions marching across my lawn. Clumps of wild phlox dot the sunny places in the timber and violets edge the lawn. The wild plum thickets are profuse with blossoms right now and a few branches grace my kitchen table, fragrancing the whole room. A few delicate columbine nod their pretty heads under the bedroom window.

The Glad Game

Nothing is blooming yet at Red Bell Farm, but I know it's spring. The irises are up. I've heard red wing blackbirds, and frogs are croaking in the creek. This morning I heard a mourning dove calling. There was a tiny snake slithering across the road when I took Lucie for a walk. I could actually smell dirt last night when I opened the slider onto the deck. On Tuesday, the temperatures hit the low 70's in Des Moines, the warmest in 6 months! The forecast for today is 81 degrees. While it might still snow in April, I've taken a chance and hung the snow shovel back in the barn. I am so glad it's spring. Glad the birds are calling and nesting. Glad the frogs survived the winter to croak once again. Glad that flowers are on the way. Glad to smell the rich Iowa soil after a frozen winter. I'm even glad for slithering snakes. I feel like Pollyanna playing the Glad Game.

What makes you glad about spring?

A Sure Sign of Spring

The grass is green and freckled with dandelions. All the flowering trees are in full bloom and today was lovely enough to open windows and let the stale air of winter escape. These things should convince me that spring has finally arrived. But in truth, like the game that isn't over until the Fat Lady sings, spring has not truly arrived until my little wren friends return and warble me a song. House wrens are one of my favorite birds, one I discovered later in my life. I never knew a wren until I moved to Iowa; I was thrilled when a pair of them built a nest on the back patio at the farm. And every Iowa spring since that first one, I've been lucky enough to entice a pair to a nest box by my house. I can't tell the males from the females; I think they both sing. I see them both going in and out of the nest box with tidbits of 'meat' in their beaks. They feed on insects, caterpillars, mosquitos, etc. so I'm doubly blessed to have them around the house. It pains me to say, however, that wrens are not universally loved. My first fall here at Red Bell Farm I took a bluebird box building class through the County Conservation Board. We put together bluebird nest boxes with the strict instructions NOT to put them up anywhere close to a building or within 100 yards of a brushy thicket. If these instructions were not followed, the dreaded house wrens would enter the box, peck the bluebird eggs or kill the babies and run the beautiful bluebirds out of the box with their vicious attacks! So, my little bluebird box went 'way out on a pasture fence and I had to content myself with seeing their flashes of blue from a distance. Being able to hear my wren friends warble was worth the effort, though.

A Friday Afternoon in Spring

I envy all of you who live where things are blooming already. As you can see by the picture I took this afternoon while sitting on my south deck, things aren't blooming here. While the grass is beginning to green up, the leaf buds on the trees are still tightly closed. It doesn't matter, tho. I took advantage of a lull in problem-solving to leave work early and get some things done...like having my oil changed. When you drive a vehicle with 200,000+ miles on it, these routine maintenance things become critical, and I was 'way overdue for new oil. Picked up a few groceries while I waited for the service to be completed and still arrived home in time to drag out a lawn chair and sit outside in the sun for awhile. It felt so good! While I can't describe any beautiful flowers for you, I can tell you how spring on a mild Iowa afternoon sounds. I was seranaded by red-wing blackbirds and the rat-a-tat-tat of at least two different woodpeckers. A pheasant squawked from the brush along the creek and mourning doves coo'ed along each side of the road. And from the hilltop to the east, the laughing voices of the three children who live there drifted across my little valley. I saw them get off the school bus earlier as I drove home; now their exuberant squeals announced to the world that they were thrilled that school was out and it was finally warm enough to play outside. A glass of merlot and my new France Today magazine made my afternoon complete.