Happy April!

It's amazing how many people I've heard mention how hard this winter was on them. One woman told me that had never had problems with depression in the winter until this year -- but this year she found she just didn't have the energy to get things done.


I must say the winter really got to me this year -- and I didn't realize how much it had affected me until we started to feel spring around here and I felt the weight of winter worry lift. Suddenly, with a little warmer weather and a little more sunlight, things that had seemed to overwhelming to contemplate became doable again.

Well, it probably wasn't just the weather. Two unexpected deaths in the family also weighed heavy this winter, both very sad in themselves and reminders that we're still grieving the loss of Dad. But even those griefs seem easier to bear when there's a garden to plant and chicks to start, and walking weather has started again.

The wind blew enough to shake the siding and the window casings in the early hours of Monday morning. It slowed during the day, and by the time I went for my walk in the evening, it was utterly still. The wind had helped dry the yard and the road, and I was pleased to be able to put on my sneakers again instead of snow boots or rubber boots.


It was so nice to be outside! March, I have to say, is the worst month of the year in the Dakotas, even worse than the 31 days of January -- in January we know there will be no respite to winter and we're not expecting one (if a January thaw shows up, we count it as a special blessing), but by March we're expecting at least some hint of spring. We received nothing but a sea of mud, to be immediately covered up by a think blanket of heavy snow. We'd shaken our fists at winter all through March, but April's arrival with a quick thaw, a drying wind and sunshine took the fight out of us. For a moment, we could just be.

And I am thrilled that the birds are back. Great waves of geese have been passing overhead since last week, stopping to gather in a field for a raucous reunion for an hour or a day before they're on their way again. On Saturday, the sloughs were still covered with ice; by Monday evening, they were brimming with ducks and geese, and with killdeer skirting along their edges. Twice while I was walking a squadron of ducks (they looked like fighter jets in formation) flew very low overhead -- they didn't quack at that moment, so all I heard was the frantic flapping of their wings, like a dozen airborne fans. I viewed it as a sign of respect (though I am also glad they didn't decide to "unload" at that moment!).

I think part of the reason I like the birds so much is that we keep facing the same problem in different forms in all the groups I'm involved in -- too few people. Everybody leaves for places that are warmer and have more Starbucks. It is nice that at least for a while we have a crowd here! Even if they don't sign up for township board, they at least seem to like their time here while they're winging through.