An Unnamed Season

It seems inadequate to label this time of year, Spring. The astronomical three months from the day of equal dark and light to the lightest day of the year is too broad for what occurs now. Now is a time of rapid change in the marsh. (photo - the mouth of a beaver canal that leads into the marsh forest) 14 days ago, the first two nests were started by the Canada geese and 5 days ago, I spotted the first eggs in the big beaver lodge nest. 18 days ago, the first swallow returned to the bay, followed just a few days later by many more. Irises, cattails and lily pads are all coming up and today I saw the first two skunk cabbages with their big broad green leaves and yellow cores. I haven't seen northern shovelers for some time now, but they are the last to arrive in fall and the first to leave for parts north and I think they are long gone. Even the eagles have shifted their hunting patterns from coots to who knows what, and the scattering of ducks and coots all around the bay shows that they have little to worry about. Far too much happens in this 4 to 6 weeks for it to simply be a part of spring. Cultures that are more in tune with nature have different definitions for seasons. The reindeer peoples count eight seasons based on the behavior of the herds that they rely on. Their seasons are unequal in length with winter being five months long and the calving season a mere ten days.

No, I don't have name for this season, but it is here none the less.