February is the longest month
but at least spring is coming
I keep hearing phantom songbirds in my mind’s attempt to lure spring to us early. In my deep instinctual brain, their arrival makes sense because of our too-easy winter. Today’s high hit 55º, which is absolutely nuts for February, even Leap Day. Logically of course I know February is too early to have heard a song sparrow but I swear that I did! And wasn’t that a robin’s cheery chirp I caught the other day? A meadowlark certainly wouldn’t be along yet, but I’d recognize that whistle anywhere…
Usually February is simply a long month of naught but snowstorms. Four years ago today, I ran the Snow Joke half marathon in Seeley Lake. I ran on 13.1 miles of ice and snow on a day that topped out in the low forties. But there was so much snow my AWD Pontiac got stuck in its parking place. We don’t have any snow this year. I bet I could hike over the top of Mt. Sentinel right now without a problem.
Well, not right this minute. I was just out for a walk when I was pummeled by a sudden storm. The wind drew forth its might and unleashed it across the Northside in gusts that were followed by actual thunder. This was confirmed by the Special Weather Statement that appeared on my phone. I didn’t see it until later because I was unexpectedly fighting for my very life out on those streets and simply wanted to make it back to my living room without a mortal wound (tree branch, power line, etc).
Prior to that I’d been walking along listening for songbirds. I’d deployed the Merlin app, which I’m sure I’ve written about. I’ve learned to identify over 50 birds by sound, primarily using this app. I have to re-train myself every spring, because of the birds’ long winter absences, but it’s a training I enjoy. If you see someone slowly circling around, looking at the trees while holding their phone outward and face up, you can bet they’ve got the app going. It’s certainly Merlin season.
I’d also been scouring the sidewalk-adjacent bushes for buds, which seem to have appeared in the last couple of weeks. Soon they’ll be burgeoning and I’ll be reaching for the allergy meds. I stopped by garden plot #56, but nothing is coming up besides some frost heave and those weeds that never seem to brown up or die off.
A recap: I went out for exercise and heard something I’m certain was a song sparrow.1 Budding bushes caught my eye. A killer thunderstorm raced in and took me completely by surprise. Even though it’s not even spring yet,2 I searched for signs, and believe I found them.
I refuse to give up
And it ain’t. We’re heading back to the teens this weekend.
It's March 1, so I can hope spring is almost here. But, of course, spring in Montana can be any weather pattern. Even the birds know when to go inside.