A classic old ballad of decades ago, but we are not talking about a day or 24 hours, but of a change of seasons.
In not just a day, but three weeks, these changes signify three "SEASONS" in one fell swoop. Like uncle ART use to say..."UP IN MINNESOTA WE HAVE ONLY THREE SEASONS: JUNI, JULI AND WINTER. It's true so far, except we have had all three in "yust" three weeks.
On our first visit, the lake was frozen over, the trails were knee deep in snow. Next stop the lake was open and playing host to clouds of northern ducks including bluebills and mergansers who probably found their favored northern lakes inhospitable (interpret frozen over). Next, our beautiful guests were gone, the lake was open and pontoons were meandering in balmy 60's and 70's. Who is going to figure it out?
It's obviously much too cool for those little wood frogs to emerge for their annual pilgrimage so I thought I'd spend some time in a blind awaiting a turkey dinner. Wisconsin is blessed with many fine educational institutions which probably supports my suspicion that turkeys can read quite well. This conclusion was reached since all came clean shaven, that is to say "without beards" and, therefore, remain unscathed, since regulations say "no beard, no shoot".*
Heavy ice and snow of the past season laid claim to some trees and branches, blocking the trail in some places, so out with the chain saw again. The wood's loss is often the firewood pile's gain. Nature's way of providing, I guess.
Back to watching the frog eggs.
*PS: as clarification, a feathered appendage hanging from a turkey's neck area identifies the bird as being legal to harvest during the Spring hunt
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