I know that I’m jumping the gun, but these last few warm days have me thinking of spring.  As a turkey hunter, or more accurately an obsessed turkey hunter, it doesn’t take much to set my thoughts adrift in that direction.

 

Soon enough, I’ll be pulling out a small wooden turkey to sit alongside my French press and lucky “turkey hunting” coffee mug.  The turkey serves double duty in our house, making his first appearance during turkey season and his second at Thanksgiving.  When “Lil Tom” comes out, turkey season officially begins.

 

I’m counting down the days, although I must say that I’m in no rush for the cool temperatures to leave.  Fortunately, the weekend forecast promises a few more nights in the 20s which holds the promise of at least one more night around the fire pit.

 

Winter, it always seems, will not go away without a fight while spring is ever willing to burst forth with only a day or two of sun and warmth in February.

 

I always find myself in a state of seasonal confusion this time of year, albeit gladly.  However, it seems that I’m not alone in this.  Our goats have been a bit spryer these past few days, and the clumps of hair sloughing off from their winter coats signal a change is coming.

 

The ducks and geese are also making the most of the unseasonably (can we even say “unseasonably” anymore with our crazy climate) warm days, spending their time bugging about the farmyard, their bills and craws filled with the insect hatch of the day.

 

I don’t want to discount the instincts of our farm animals as they live outside in the elements and should, as such, be more in tune to changes in the weather patterns.  However, like me, they too are domesticated.  Can their instincts be trusted?

 

The tender green leaves emerging from the elderberry trees Dan and I planted in early winter tell me the answer is a resounding, “Yes!”  Roadside daffodils, spring’s symbol of hope, renewal and new beginnings, echo the elderberry’s sentiments.

 

Furthermore, even the wariest of wild game, the wild turkey (or at least the wild turkey gobbler), seems to have been duped by the warmth of the past few days.

 

Driving past an open field earlier this week, I caught movement near the wood’s edge.  A small group of gobblers and jakes milled about and, in their midst, two large longbeards strutted to and fro as if spring were in full bloom.

 

No hens were to be seen in the group.  Like my ducks and geese, they were probably bugging about in the woods, taking advantage of whatever local hatch was underway that day in Smith County.  They were also, no doubt, more in tune to their internal time clock of the seasons.

 

Perhaps the hens were within sight of the posse of gobblers and, if so, were shaking their heads in disbelief.  “Boys will be boys,” they said.  “We’ll let you know when it’s time,” they said, as they walked away through the woods, crops filled with bugs and the tiny shoots of the newly emerging leaves and grass.

 

I take comfort in the fact that even wildlife can be fooled on occasion, and with this realization my thoughts shift to bass fishing.  Is it too early to Texas rig a plastic lizard or try my hand with the slow retrieve of a spinner bait in an attempt to fool a largemouth?

 

Dan must be having similar thoughts, as earlier this week he said that he was ready to catch a few bass and have a fish fry.  It seems that he has a mind for spring as well. Maybe it’s all our talk of turkeys lately, or, more likely, it’s the effect of the sun’s rays beaming down and his vitamin D levels going up.

 

While the time doesn’t change until March 9, which is almost one month away, and the first day of spring doesn’t come until March 20, the portents pointing to spring’s arrival appear fresh each day.

 

The morning and evening air has been filled in the gloaming with nature’s symphony.  As in the Song of Solomon, “the time of singing has come” at the farm with birdsong filling the morning air and a chorus of spring peepers rising from the woods around the lake serenading the coming of each night.

 

Here’s to the gift of the seasons, to the warmth of a fire on a winter’s night and the music, majesty and artistry that bursts forth every spring, and here’s to seeing you out there enjoying our great outdoors.