Winterspring?

Another warmish, sunny day in a strange winter with many such days. More and more people comment on the season by saying, I’m not complaining, but … It’s an odd thing, having such a mild winter, and while we certainly do enjoy being largely free from shoveling and slippery driving, and marvel at the bulbs and perennials already sending up shoots, we also know it’s freakish. And we know that we could still get slammed with winter weather at any time (as we did in October), although the forecast isn’t predicting any of that for us any time soon.

And those of us who are perhaps more tuned in to environmental issues know that a warm winter means less winter kill-off of bugs and pests and perhaps, even, plant diseases. We wonder what the summer will bring; hordes of black flies, mosquitoes, and ticks? – and correspondingly higher rates of Lyme disease? Squash bugs and potato beetles? (maybe even a biblical plague of locusts? ;-) I figure there’s lots more I don’t realize, about what will be different without the usual cold winter temperatures and the usual deep snow cover.

But for the meantime, what can one do except enjoy this Virginia-like winter? We sat out on the deck at midday to eat our lunch in the sun; it was still chilly enough to require sweater and sweatshirt, but we have a protected spot out of too much wind and it was delightful. The lawn is bare and the grass is pretty green, considering. I mean, it’s February. We shouldn’t be seeing the lawn at all. Sorrel and chives are beginning to poke up in the herb garden, and the leaves of burnet, primroses, and clary sage are green.

The chickens are happy beneficiaries of all this warmth as well. Usually they are cooped up throughout the usual frequent cold snaps and blizzards, not liking to step out into snow; this winter they are able to gad about freely in their pen most days, scratching through the used rabbit bedding and kitchen scraps that are thrown in. Something has been coming through the yard in the wee hours, waking our dogs, and we suspect that our local black bear might not be hibernating in the usual way. Can't look for tracks, though, when there's no snow.

I feel for the ski areas, and the guys who bought new plows this winter, and the kids who got sleds and snowshoes for Christmas. And, I suppose, for those people who actually love the snow and revel in seeing the landscape covered in a thick white blanket. I just wish that I could enjoy this unusual weather without that nagging worry in the back of my mind, wondering about the causes, the implications, and what might lie ahead for those of us who work the land.