It’s been an unusually mild winter and spring seems to be in full swing. Even so it’s hard for gritty northerners who are battle hardened by harsh winters (self included) to let our guard down. In my case I don’t buy it until I consult my experience with phenology:
My observation of local animal life has led me to form this hard and fast springtime rule:
Unfortunately I’d been traveling and unable to keep an eye open for that brave soul that destroys his Ford so we can all plant crops. Which brings up a serious question:
“If somebody sinks a truck and I don’t know about it…is it still spring?
It sure seemed like spring. By March 13th: my ice damns had melted. A sure sign of spring. But I lacked conclusive proof of the seasonal shift. A wise commenter asked “How many pickup trucks have fallen through the ice, though?” and I had no answer. I needed further evidence.
Meanwhile the robins arrived. Shortly thereafter the geese arrived. Then politicians started bitching about the price of gas. I mentioned this key seasonal observation back in 2011:
Is that the annual congressional blovation about gas prices starting already? I avoid the news but it sure seemed to be ramping up with a good solid election year pandering season in the offing. Gosh, it’s gotta’ be spring.
Then it hit me. There must have been a massive truck sinking event. The robins knew this even if I didn’t.
I found out it happened on February 27th when 36 cars sunk all at once. (A new record!)
Forget climatologists and woodchucks in Pennsylvania, I’ve got a better model; the key ingredients are sunk trucks, geese, robins, ice damns, and political B.S.. All have been officially recognized and therefore it’s a done deal. There might be a few cold snaps left but for the most part I’m certain that Old Man Winter has checked out and left until next year.