Signs of Spring on St. Patrick's Day

First, Happy St. Patrick's Day. Here is an Irish vignette I made from a card I received, the green carnation I gave hubby dearest and my (limited) whiskey container collection. The Poteen Jug on the left is Wade Irish Porcelain. The middle container is an Old Fitzgerald Sons of Erin decanter which once held 100 proof Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey. It has a map of Ireland showing the four provinces, Connaught, Leinster, Munster and Ulster as well as all the counties. It also displays many of the Irish family name crests. The jug on the right is a Tullamore Dew, 12 Year Old Blended Irish Whiskey container. The logo below the harp and Irish Wolfhounds reads: "Give Every Man His Dew". There's a small booklet hanging from the handle which tells the story of Tullamore Dew and gives drink recipes using it. I stopped in Tullamore when I was in Ireland and bought a small bottle of their Dew. I can attest to its 'light and delicate flavour' attributed to the water used which comes from the River Vartry. The back label reads: "This jar contains Uisge Baugh (The Water of Life) Blended Irish Whiskey.  

I have had my own personal signs of spring since I was a teenager. The first of these was hearing the spring peeper frogs. When I heard their mating calls, I knew spring was nigh.

Not long after I heard the first spring peepers, I would hear the Plover's killdeer, killdeer as they ran along the ground. In fact, we always called them Killdeers rather than Plovers. They nest on the ground. I can remember walks with my Mom when I was a very young child. We would see a Killdeer walking away from us dragging one wing along the ground as though it were injured. After we had followed along for a way, the bird's wing would magically heal and it would fly away. Mom explained it was acting hurt to lead us (or any predator) away from its nest. Even when we looked for the nest it was difficult to see - the eggs looked so much like speckled stones. Others may listen and look for Robins as harbingers of spring; I listen for the Killdeer.

The wearin' o' the green even extends to the willow trees - another sure sign of Spring. They are one of the earliest trees to show green and I love the smell of willow trees. (I took this picture yesterday.)

Whether it is a sign of global warming or just one of those years of a warmer than usual winter, even the daffodils are getting ready to bloom. One of my all time favourite poems is William Wordsworth's I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud:  

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils. 

    

I have a niece whose maiden name is Wadsworth. I wonder if she went back far enough on her family tree if her ancestors were once Wordsworth. Might she be related to the famous poet whose poem, also known as The Daffodils, was first published in 1807?

While driving from Mount Vernon to Colonial Williamsburg thirty some years ago, I had a personal dancing with the daffodils experience when I saw entire fields of wild daffodils in Gloucester County, Virginia. Until then the largest plantings I had seen were on an acreage on the north edge of Johnston where they were being naturalized. 

Frogs, plovers, willows or a host of daffodils fluttering and dancing in the breeze - they are all sure signs of spring.