I went for a swim the other day. The temperature had been steadily rising and the ice was melting back- I was running out of time to venture out into our cove to retrieve some ill placed wood duck boxes. We wanted them out of there before the start of spring so that the ducks would start scouting and visit some of our other boxes that we would keep out there. At this point in smaller coves, the ice is often melted in the middle or in areas where there is a lot of underwater vegetation, but shoreline’s may still be frozen, making it inaccessible for a boat- thus we need the ice to access the boxes. Now, before you start assuming the worst, I did not fall through, I voluntarily stepped into the mud and battled with a wooden post for about ten minutes, shaking it back and forth, pulling with all of my might until finally the suction of the mud gave way and I could haul the post out of the semi frozen lake bottom. It’s hard to estimate how deep the water and mud will be at this time of year. Since winter is a “dry” season, we like to hope that the water is low, but mud can be deep. To put my supervisors at ease, I geared up with a wetsuit, fishing waders, and a buddy that would watch me from the nearest dock in the event the water and mud was deeper than we anticipated. After getting into my wetsuit in record time and pulling on the waders, I warily trekked out onto the ice shelf all the way to the edge of the water where it was somehow still holding me. When it was time to step into the mud, I lucked out with a few inches of water and a log that had sunk deep into the mud so I had something of substance to stand on as I fought the post.
After retrieving four boxes, I decided there was a good teaching opportunity to be had as I thought about how I would probably only need to wait another two weeks or so before being able to kayak. And thus, I headed over to a small stream and asked my co-server to film me taking a dip in open water in full ice safety and winter water gear. I’ve had family members make the life threatening mistake that many people do this time of year: act like it’s spring when it’s still winter in the lake. Kayaking on some of the first warm days of the year can feel rejuvenating, and who wants to wear a life jacket or thermals when the sun is finally giving your skin a UV index higher than 2? But if you happen to capsize, which believe me, it’s more common than you think, you’re going to become hypothermic and if you’re not wearing a life jacket, good luck braving the cold shock while treading water and trying to get back into your watercraft. I decided to make a short video, we call them Share, Learn, Adventure videos, about the dangers of this time of year and to encourage people to hold on a little longer until the water is safer.
What the video really made me think about was how much I wanted to stay in the water and keep swimming! This is truly the hardest time of the year for many of us, especially this year. At the first sign of warm weather we want to wear shorts and tank tops and Tevas, despite the piles of snow on the ground and the frost heaves still growing on the roads. In reality many trails are closed due to mud season, it’s colder than we want to admit when there’s more than a slight breeze or a spot of shade, and the ice is too sketchy in many places to keep doing ice activities but still prevalent enough that there aren’t many places to kayak or canoe. Some braver than I may flock to the coast for some early season surfing or trek out onto the ice for the last hopes of a lake trout.
Patience is a virtue that doesn’t readily present itself to me during this time of year. All I want to do is stand outside on the first warm night and expect there to be spring peepers. At the first sign of a bald eagle flying over our cove I bite my nails waiting for the four juveniles we had last year- have you ever watched an eagle learn to be an eagle? It’s very entertaining. Once the grouse start becoming more active I’m always listening for the adorable “MEEP” of a woodcock*. Behind our yard we’ve been breaking up ice and spreading snow from plow mounds around to get it to melt faster, hoping we may uncover some sprouts under a blanket of snow. I find myself checking local salamander forecasts several times a day, just to be sure that there definitely won’t be a “big night” for early season amphibians tonight. And in the back of my mind I know that what lays ahead is of course April- a month characterized by one final snow storm and cold, cold rainy days. I feel like the one thing keeping me from pulling my hair out during this strange in between is our small scale sugaring operation we have on campus. As long as the maples are running, spring is on the way.
The truth is that I wasn’t prepared for the magic of spring last year. Sure, spring is great and always has been- but when I was younger I was always pining for summer to come and stay, spring was simply a prerequisite for the main event. It wasn’t until last year that I realized spring was the main event. I watched buds get bigger everyday until the buds became leaves that got more opaque as the season trekked on. Rivers took the last crisp pieces of ice downstream while melted snow pooled into leaf bottomed depressions, inviting insects and amphibians to lay eggs in their temporary nursery. The chipmunk sightings increased significantly as the red winged blackbirds started to trickle back to the wetlands. And the woodcocks finally started calling like clockwork at dusk.
This year is the hardest I’ve ever waited for a seasonal change- I see my past LRCC members only a few latitude degrees south enjoying spring in full bloom. I see the lake refreeze every night and then steadily melt again during the day. I hear five different songbirds one day and only three the next. I see the forecast that was set for 64 degrees is now dropping down into the 50s. I’m constantly reminding myself that we still haven’t hit the rainy season and to “buckle down Winsocki.” The one difference now is that I am fully prepared to enjoy every aspect of spring this year. I took note of my favorite parts of the turn of the season and acquired gear to help me enjoy it to the fullest. I’ve made myself a go bag for nights that salamanders may be migrating across the roads, I’ve bought a better pair of binoculars so that I can begin identifying more songbirds as they arrive and have been practicing my calls, I was lucky enough to come across a pair of used waders for sale that actually fit me (it’s quite difficult to find waders for petite women, let alone ones that cater to an AmeriCorps stipend). My co-server Mike and I are practicing our fly fishing casts and I’ve been working on my arm strength in preparation for dock installations and the first till of a new pollinator garden plot. I’ve also planned out my future education programs and videos based on the unique occurrences during spring in New England.
If you’re in the same boat as me, hang in there. It’s easy to want to skip over April and go straight to May. Being from the southernmost part of New York, April is the usual spring month for me, but I got a rude awakening last year when we were still getting snow regularly in March and it was 40 degrees and raining four or five days out of the week during April. Something that has helped me is learning about the processes that happen during these seemingly miserable weeks that will allow for the continuous warmth and blooming of that final stage of spring. Did you know that native plants won’t germinate unless they undergo freeze and thaw cycles first to soften the casing around the seed? Soil is shifting around, moving rocks and nutrients with it, making way for new growth. All of that rain is helping the last of the snow melt away and raise the water level of the lake, helping to weather and melt away those last few inches of ice.
It’s almost here, I swear. We’re in this together. Start making a list of the spring activities you want to do and then make another list of rainy day movies so that you have a backup plan when you inevitably are forced back inside by the last dregs of winter weather. Make one last comforting soup for dinner and don’t change the flannel sheets on your bed just yet.
Good luck braving the storm, see you in spring!
*The day I wrote this, I went back home and heard woodcocks in our yard for the first time this season! Okay peepers, your move.
Maggy is really looking forward to throwing on a headlamp and going herping (searching for amphibians or reptiles) once the weather warms up enough, especially since she has just acquired her very own new-to-her waders! Learn more about Maggy here.