At the cabin, you still have to hunt to find the crocuses.

The daffodils are drowned by brown leaves.

The peepers, invisible, rage all night and most of the day. I thought they were early this year — we’re still building hearth fires every night. There is a scent of spring in the air, a lilt, but the air is cold enough to keep on with your winter jacket.

I looked back at my blog posts to see when the peepers appeared last year. To my surprise, it was the same time, to the date! The night of March 12th. I had to close the window, they were so loud, just as I did this year.

Nature has a brain. The tiny frogs know it’s time to get out there and peep their hearts out, to find a mate, to propagate. They are all male, the frogs who peep. Waiting a moment after March 12th won’t do.

If you don’t have a marsh in your back yard, you can here the trill of the peepers here.

The painted turtles aren’t far behind. And then the snakes.

It’s almost time for a springtime party. Let’s have a pig roast and celebrate the daffodils.