These days I rejoice in every new sign that spring has come. It’s April. We passed the Vernal Equinox, the official first day of spring, two weeks ago, but that doesn’t mean much here. Winter always lingers too long. Last week winter tried to assert itself several times with snow and cold winds. But we’ve seen some heartening indicators that spring is trying to advance. The snowdrops have bloomed, been buried in snow repeatedly, and kept right on going. The crocuses and the little iris reticulata are in bloom at last. Yesterday it was finally sunny and warm enough to coax them to open. And there are thousands of little shoots popping up through the ground – daffodils, hyacinths, squill, tulips, fritillaries, muscari, and chionodoxa. The buds on the willows, alders, lilacs, and maples are swelling. The red-winged blackbirds, grackles, robins, killdeer, and turkey vultures have all returned from the south. I’ve heard bluebirds singing in the orchard almost every morning for a week. But another less welcome sign of the season has begun. It started the week before last.
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| Crocuses, at last! |
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| Hannah took these closeup shots of crocuses. |
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| And these iris reticulata. |
It was on a day when we didn’t have school. It was a cold morning, but the sun was shining. Stacey and Hannah had left for work. Miriam was still upstairs. I was sitting by the furnace grate reading. The house was very quiet. And then it wasn’t. From inside the stovepipe there came a loud scratching noise. The sort of noise made by sharp claws scraping against metal. Then there was fluttering and flailing and more frantic scratching. And then silence. I knew exactly what was going on. A starling, looking for a place to nest, had come down the stovepipe into the wood stove (which was cold). We’ve been through this before many times in years past, but that was the first time this year. I did what I always do. I closed all the downstairs doors and opened the front door and propped open the screen door. Then I opened the doors on the wood stove. The starling flew out in a puff of wood ash, took a turn around the living room, and flew out the front door. The same thing happened an hour later and again two hours after that. I’m pretty sure it was the same starling every time. It knew the routine after the first time and flew right out the door without hesitation after that. The same thing has happened again on several other days. Years ago when we had our stove installed, they put a piece of wire mesh over the top of the stovepipe to keep debris and birds out, but it came off a long time ago and our roof is high and very steep and no one wants to go up there to put on a new barrier. So we deal with the starlings. Eventually they will establish nests somewhere else and stop looking for new places and we will have peace again for a while.
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| The European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris). |
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| Starlings around the world. |
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| A murmuration of starlings. |
I have a love/hate relationship with starlings – maybe mostly hate. Yes, I admit that they are pretty birds with their lustrous plumage. And I admire their ability as mimics – they can even be taught to talk. The starling family Sturnidae has almost 120 species scattered around the world. Some of them are very beautiful. Their murmurations, when they swirl in their thousands in the sky, are fascinating to watch. But the species I have to deal with, Sturnus vulgaris, the European Starling, has too many negative impacts on my part of the world for me to really like them. Even the Audubon Society weighs in on them. In their publication The Birdist’s Rules of Birding it says:
“Birdist Rule #72: It’s Okay to Dislike Some Birds. … it’s okay to hate certain species, too—healthy, even. I suggest you start with European Starlings.”
That sort of gives my dislike the stamp of authority. Starlings, like Japanese beetles, Mediterranean fruit flies, cane toads and rabbits in Australia, or brown tree snakes in Guam, wreak havoc on the native ecosystems they’ve invaded. Starlings push out native cavity nesters like bluebirds, owls, and woodpeckers. They damage crops. They trespass in my barn, eat up my chickens’ food and foul everything with their droppings. They are vectors for disease pathogens that can infect my flock, such as E. coli and Campylobacter. And they fly down my stovepipe all spring long. Although they are not protected by law (neither are pigeons or house sparrows), I avoid taking violent action against them. I’ve always tried to find other ways to keep them out of the barn and out of the wood stove – without much success so far. We’re hoping to have our roof replaced this summer and while the workers are up there, I will have them rig something permanent on the stovepipe. But until then …
Ever since our return from our short trip to North Carolina where spring was well underway, the weather has been pretty miserable. Winter just won’t let up. All week we had a bit of warmish weather, but then the snow came swirling back again. This weekend I should have started the first of my seed trays, but I haven’t set up my growing area in the woodshed yet. I have to do some cleaning and rearranging first and it’s been too cold and dismal for me to want to do it. Maybe this week.
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| Snow on Wednesday. |
This week I have new trees for the orchard arriving – apple, peach, and cherry. I decided to try to grow peach and cherry trees again. I’ve tried in the past without success. Maybe this time it will work. I’ve chosen a better spot for them in a more sheltered area. That shipment also includes new raspberry canes and strawberry plants. So I will have outdoor work to do and the weather looks like it will be warmer, but rainy – those proverbial April showers. That’s okay as long as there is no snow.
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| Kurt has been busy tilling and preparing gardens for planting. |
This weekend is General Conference. Yesterday we watched three sessions. Today we will watch two more. Each session has been excellent. In a world that is saturated with wickedness, confusion, and violence, it is uplifting to hear messages of hope and instruction. So far we’ve heard talks on how to better observe our celebration of Easter, on relying on the Lord to overcome discouragement, on repentance and forgiveness, on seeking after lost sheep, on trusting the Doctrine of Christ, on the importance of temples, and other timely topics. We’ve heard beautiful music. Today I’m sure will be more of the same. I always come away from General Conference with a firmer determination to be a better disciple of Jesus Christ.
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| Miriam's chocolate Easter eggs. |
Today is Palm Sunday and the week ahead is Holy Week. As we approach Easter we will keep traditions in our home. Miriam has already begun making chocolate eggs -- peanut butter, coconut, and marzipan. Midweek I’ll make a batch of pickled eggs and red beets so they’ll be ready for our feast on Easter Sunday. On Good Friday I will keep a personal tradition by listening to Bach’s St. Matthew Passion. On Friday evening we are holding our Passover Seder. Our niece Kailie and her husband Ian are coming up to be with us. And on Sunday we will have our Easter service and as part of it, our family is going to sing a special hymn That Easter Morn. Then after church, we will have our traditional feast. I love this celebration, maybe even more than I love Christmas. With the earth stirring to life and the assurance that Christ atoned for our sins, died, and was resurrected so that we can be saved in the Kingdom of God -- Easter is the greatest reason to celebrate that I know of.
At 11:30, just as I was about to send this, the power went off. We had a severe windstorm yesterday that damaged power lines and while repairing them, our power was shut off. It's amazing how, despite our preparations, we are practically helpless without electricity. Our gas furnace still works and we also have our wood stove to keep us warm. Our gas stove also works without electricity, so we were able to make lunch. But our well pump is electric, so we had no water. We weren't expecting this outage and had no water set aside. We had to go down to the cellar and draw water from the tank to drink. Our cellphones worked, so we were able to watch the morning session of General Conference. The power just came on, so I'm sending this as quickly as I can in case it goes out again.
