Spring in this part of the country is a fickle thing.
Yesterday was spring----I hung jeans out on the clothesline and mopped up leaking water in the greenhouse. The chickens enjoyed pecking around in the mud and there were large patches of open grass.
The Canada geese have been returning for a few weeks. We've also caught fleeting glimpses of other migrating water fowl, probably little grebes who keep a low profile and hide shyly when people are around. The Sandhill Cranes are also returning with their loud, rattling call flying overhead. I even heard the familiar call of Redwing Blackbirds when driving through a swampy area earlier this week. My mother-in-law used to say that the Robins always returned on March 8 regardless of the weather.
But in spite of the all signs of spring, this morning we awoke to five inches of fresh snow. It's the heavy, sticky kind of snow that can really do number on your back when shoveling. The greenhouse is covered in a thick layer, which is slowly slipping off the edge of the roof panels.
Looks as if I'd better go shovel a little patch for the chickens. Perhaps tomorrow it will be spring again.
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