April 2011

April- Week 1.
The waiting zone, that stretching from November through March, has cycled through.  The zone where winter gave a command performance.  Caked snow banks still rest along tree and fence lines.  The nearby spring-filled quarry, caught yet in ice, is devoid of returning waterfowl.  Overcoat neighbors walk dogs past our window at a fast clip- as if it were late fall.  The nights freeze- putting wildlife away again until tomorrow's light.

Today Mr. Mallard paddles down-creek with two Miss'ees at his side.  Then unto the bank for a quick bite beneath last year's creek hay, and a slide back down to his gals.  And Mr. Woodchuck, pumpkin plump this year, waddles from one creek side to the other- with Mrs. Woodchuck.  The Mrs. flashes a surprising roll and claw scratch-back.  She does not want to practice procreation anymore today.  Chipmunks are out of their burrows, stirring up leaves, and re-making last year's chatter.  Sandhill cranes cackle over there in the field.  Straight overhead.  At tree level.  Till gone out of sight for today.

The yard is soft and spongy.  Boots and gloves head to wild grape vines and tall wild raspberry sticks at the woodland by creek.  The buckthorn bushes stand silent- They have witnessed my knowledge of ax and saw from last year.  By day's end, the Advil jar is opened for use.

April- Week 2.
The quarry still has ice, and the roads hold a few snow bank remnants, when temps fly up to 80 on Sunday.  But the new warmth ends suddenly.  Tornado winds slip over our township between road Shady Lane and road II in the early darkness.  Now safe under candlelight, we are awed by the pulsating lightning, and feel the dark wind swirl buckets of rain against our siding and windows.  Once quiet again, the battery radio takes count of the disaster.  This storm paid a visit on cities Neenah, Menasha, and Kaukauna.  The call-ins say a metal roof lays on the street.  Cemetery trees lay on tombstones.  Garages lay on cars.  On our front porch, we listen to spring peeper frogs and watch the storm's back side power on to Lake Michigan.  The 90 year-old oaks down on the bottom creek land watch from behind.  The oaks and us know well the luck of the draw.

During the week, a prairie seed store is called.  But seeds will not be purchased until the buckthorn are gone.  The days stay too cold for outdoor chores.  On some afternoons, Mr. Woodchuck swims by alone.  Is Mrs. W. playing house nearby?  A rain-snow mix ends the week with the robins putting up nesting in a new cedar just out from our backyard window. 

April- Week 3.
The Tuesday morning sun slides over the horizon with orange-red light.  Clouds fill up the remaining domed sky and wait for him.  Once Mr. Sun starts, he cannot stop his upward climb, and in a mere 5 minutes, is gone.  By mid morning, a lowered cloud cover begins serving pea-sized sleet.  By late afternoon, lightning-thunder fully opens the cloud sacks.  Blanketing wet snow plops onto the evergreens who survived last week's storm.  They brace themselves for a long night.  The still leafless deciduous maples and ash realize they caught a break.  At evening's final call, blackbirds move out cardinals for one last meal at the feeder.  As the last light slips away, we are in blizzard mode.  Packing snow covers our new cedars.  I head outdoors with broom in hand.  The robin's nest, started a few days ago, is not found.  Once back indoors, 8 inches of white deposit over driveway to make tomorrow's chores.

Wednesday keeps cool to allow a slow melt.  Thursday finds the smaller Mrs. Woodchuck diving into the creek at opposite bank.  She paddles in the side waters to a predetermined top of arc.  Then a push into fast current, and her motion stops.  She loses all previous gain, and exits into near bank directly opposite from first immersion.  Those watching have just found the woodchuck household.

Good Friday cannot warm itself.  Damp winds bring what is expected- chilling afternoon rains.  Outdoor workers are sent indoors once again.  Wet, hand cut buckthorn are seen through my window piled horizontal at street side.  The trunks point outward and will be first to see the wood chipper.

April- Week 4.
Deer hooves mark the garden mud, stepping left to right across yard.  At twilight, 4 winter worn deer eat field spring grass, and stand in front of a woodland backdrop.  Rain returns Tuesday, shooting the creek far over its banks.  The runoff will gouge more furrows around the tree trunks who stand some 30 yards removed.  Our five-year-old road bridge has squeezed the natural creek bed down by half.  Now, when the water is high, it has no choice but to take the more dangerous route through its neighbors. 

Rain on Thursday.  Once again, my truck and golf clubs pass on by the closed driving range.  Warmer temps by Friday.  The robin's nest is found and it holds one blue egg.  Fingers are crossed, hoping they will return tonight to lay in their remaining family.  The lawn has taken all month to grow and now receives the year’s first cut.  On Saturday, our final day of the month, a cool and damp April grudgingly hands over the weather duties to May.