Looking through my previous April journals, I’m amazed at how
many Aprils began with a four-letter word – snow! In fact it was
early in the month twenty-five years ago that we received 13
inches of heavy wet snow causing the fox sparrows to linger
longer than usual during their migration.
Ordinarily they arrive sometime during the month, feed along
with the juncos, tree sparrows, and white-throated sparrows for a
week or two and then are off to their northern nesting grounds.
I think it was during that snow-laden April that we nicknamed
these birds the "pugnacious, transient visitors with the
golden voices."
Ordinarily they, along with those northern birds that wintered
here, don’t launch into their wonderful courtship singing until
after they have left, but that year the fox sparrows, as well as
the juncos and tree sparrows, remained longer. Soon we were
hearing the most delicate songs that one could imagine and it was
then that we managed to get good photos and sound-recordings of
the richly-colored fox sparrows.
April could accurately be nicknamed the sparrow month.
Invariably 11 species of sparrows are included in our daily
phenological records: the song, white-throated, fox, field,
vesper, clay-colored, swamp, chipping, grasshopper, Savannah and
Lincoln. All but two of them nest in the county, the fox and
Lincoln.
In the case that you may be wondering why I didn’t list what
so many people call the house sparrow, it technically is not
listed as a true sparrow but rather as a one of the two
"weaver finches" that have been successfully introduced
into the U.S. The other species is the Eurasian tree sparrow.
The first green plants and the first flowers can vary somewhat
from year to year. We longingly walk through our woods in
anticipation of the first wild leek leaves to appear. These
renowned members of the great lily family waste little time in
pushing their inch-wide, long, strap-like, highly flavored
foliage out of the ground.
Our most sincere suggestion is to go easy with your first
meal, and by all means don’t over-harvest them. The slender
onion-like bulbs can be eaten in moderation, and some people put
little pinches of the leaves in with their salad makings. Or you
can simply rub a crushed leaf around the inside of the salad
bowls. Remember that the wild leeks are much stronger tasting
than the store-bought leeks.
How I treasure the wide-eyed response from one of the
third-graders I had on a hike into the spring woods years back.
Without telling the students what the plant was, I gave each
child a portion of a wild leek leaf and told them to examine it,
taste it, smell it, etc. Quickly one of the boys said, "Oh,
Mr. Lukes, I know that plant. We eat them at home each spring.
That’s wild leek, and when you eat leek you have BAD breath for
THREE days!" Truer words couldn’t have been spoken.
When it comes to listing the first flower of April, my guess
is that the top vote-getter might be the dandelion. The opening
of the first dandelion to me is somewhat like hearing the first
welcome song of the red-winged blackbird. The sight of the
first yellow-topped "tramp with the golden crown" is
such a treat for the eyes, but as their numbers grow and grow
our love for these widespread weedy wildflowers, like the huge
flocks of red-winged blackbirds that eventually dominate most
wetlands, rapidly diminishes.
There is another flower that frequently beats the dandelion
into bloom, and it’s a flower many people don’t even consider
being a flower – the pussy willow. Yes, many shrubs and trees
have inconspicuous flowers that can’t even come close in their
resemblance to the typical spring wildflowers such as hepaticas
and trilliums.
Pussy willow catkins will be in the prime time of their
blossoming early this month. In some years they provide the wild
bees with their very first seasonal meal of nectar and pollen for
making into bee bread.
There are three appearances at our place in the woods that
have in several past years taken place on the same day, usually
around the middle of the month. The first hepaticas in blossom
were greeted by two species of butterflies that both spent the
winter here as adults, the Milbert’s tortoise-shell and the
mourning cloak.
Often we encounter the first Milbert’s of the year basking in
the sunshine on our front cement patio. This species has a
wingspan of less than two inches, is blackish with an orange band
across its wings. What could be more pleasant, following winter
and a blustery, cold, fickle March, than enjoying butterflies on
a warm, sunlit April day?
Remember to honor Earth Day in some special way on April 22
and vow to do something beneficial for our planet Earth every
remaining day of your life.
Charles G.D. Roberts wrote of April in a special way:
"Sang the sunrise on an amber morn – ‘Earth be glad! An
April day is born. Winter’s done, and April’s in the skies.
The Ides of March find snow still lingering in many
woods. Piles of leaves showing through tell where deer and turkeys have been
searching for beechnuts.
This column appeared in the Door County Advocate
on 03/04/2003.
© Copyright 2003 Roy Lukes. All rights reserved.
