Today’s post is from Steven I. Apfelbaum, author of Nature’s Second Chance: Restoring the Ecology of Stone Prairie Farm. Apfelbaum is founder, president, and senior ecologist of the firm Applied Ecological Services, known for its international science-based ecological design and restoration work. He lives in Juda, Wisconsin, on Stone Prairie Farm.
I noticed the difference in the first rays of the rising sun that 5th February: a definite brighter yellow morning glow, the appearance of warmth even though it was only seven degrees Fahrenheit, and something else that spoke of a turning point. I wasn’t the only creature at Stone Prairie Farm cognitive to this event. The chickadees, at the bird feeder for the first time since late fall, were calling. They spurted parts of their normal songs, seeming like first-time vocalists practicing a few lines over and over.
The sunlight soaked the land, once released by the horizon to our side of the earth. Then I knew, before listening to any weather reporting on the radio, today was going to be different. Today the snow drifts would shudder and slump, water would ooze from beneath their slumping forms like the melting of butter, and the land’s whiteness of several months would flow from the land to the streams, to the ground to replenish water supplies, and evaporate back to the atmosphere. The passing thought–expect foggy mornings–was interrupted by a proclamation for the fish in Spring creek: expect a surge of cold clear water. Incoming!
Then I became preoccupied with the morning rush to chores, off to my office and work. During the perfunctory morning dog walk, Willow ran between the shadows and the glowing light as he crisscrossed behind prairie grass clumps and shrubs, looking for the perfect spots and sniffing the scents of the nightly wildlife movements. The rabbits in particular. For a gray haired muzzled dog, there was a little more spring in his step. He too appeared to notice or feel something in the cold morning air.
