Great Dandelion Bloom is underway in region
May I not serve, then, in Thy garden
And in Thy fields and farm,
Stirring the soil around the radishes
And pulling rhubarb by the fence?
Layering the Latham stems to make new growth
For warm sweet berries born two seasons hence?
Setting the tendril feet of runnered plantlets
In crumbled, tendered soil within the row?
Pausing to know the lilac’s dearness,
The gentle petalled rose upon my lips,
The lemon balm so sweet on fingertips,
And the sharp, wild scent of catnip cornered there.
Or, tractor mounted, turn the vibrant earth
Warm to the sun in overlapping layers
Of joy and productivity.
At star shine,
Crimson clover in stretching, wilting rows,
Cut at first bloom to hold all good within.
Quiet in star glow for tomorrow’s turning
To tomorrow’s sun.
- Janet Stevens, “Joy”
In the Sky
The year’s second Cross-quarter Day is April 21, and it marks halfway between equinox and solstice. The Sun enters the Late Spring sign of Taurus on that day.
The Lyrid Meteors are active after midnight between Cygnus and Hercules during the second and third week of April, peaking on April 23 and 24. These shooting stars often appear at the rate of 15 to 25 per hour.
This week of the year, the Big Dipper comes as far as possible into the southern sky, and its pointers (the two outside stars of its dipper cup) are positioned almost exactly north-south after dark. Now Cepheus and Cassio overhead in early winter, have moved to the far side of Polaris along the northern horizon.
The Moons of April and May
April 1: The Termite Migration Moon enters its last quarter.
April 8: The Tadpole Moon is new.
April 15: The moon enters its second quarter.
April 23: The Tadpole Moon is full.
May 1: The Tadpole Moon enters its final quarter.
Weather Trends
Late Spring approaches this week, the warm weather creating unmistakable markers in the progress of spring. Among those landmarks:
The 26th and the 30th record freezing temperatures less than 15 percent of the time, the first time that has happened since late September.
After the 22nd, chances of snow drop below five percent in most of the nation.
Chances of a cold day in the 30s or 40s fall to only 15 percent on the 22; they plummet another five percent on the 26.
Beginning on April 27, highs in the 90′s become possible as far north as the Great Lakes, and the chances of a high in the 80′s pass the 20 percent mark at lower elevations along the 40th parallel. The chances of a high above 70′s degrees are now 50/50 or better for the first time this year.
April 29 and 30 are usually the mildest days this week, with the 30 bringing a 90 percent chance of highs above 60 degrees for the first time since late September.
The driest days at this time of year are April 26 and 27, each with just a 20 percent chance of rain. The wettest days: April 29 and 30 – both carrying a 55 percent chance of precipitation.
The Natural Calendar
Grackles settle in to court and mate. Buzzards roost and turkeys gobble. Mallards pair up, and geese nest near parking lots and riverbanks.
By April 16, the sun reaches a declination of a little more than 10 degrees. That’s about 70 percent of the way between winter solstice and to summer solstice.
The Great Dandelion Bloom is underway throughout the region.
In the wetlands, the yellow flowers of ragwort and the white flowers of water cress unfold. Red-bellied woodpeckers, towhees, catbirds and thrushes sing in the woods.
Countdown to Summer
One week to morel season Two weeks until clover blooms Three weeks to the great warbler migration through the Lower Midwest
Four weeks to the first strawberry pie
Five weeks until the first orange daylilies blossom
Six weeks until roses flower Seven weeks until the first mulberries are sweet for picking and cottonwood cotton drifts in the wind.
Eight weeks until wild black raspberries ripen
Nine weeks until fledgling robins peep in the bushes
Ten weeks until cicadas chant in the hot and humid days
In the Field and Garden
The juniper webworm emerges, and eastern tent caterpillars may begin to weave on flowering fruit trees. Spring barley planting time usually comes to a close.
Army worms, slugs, corn borers, flea beetles and leaf hoppers appear in the fields at about the same time that iris buds. Lilac borers bore the lilacs.
Grub worms come to the surface of the lawn when the temperatures begin to reach past 70 degrees. First grasshoppers are born.
Frosts may be over for the season, and average afternoon highs break 60 degrees almost everywhere in the Lower Midwest.
Journal
Seasonal lag is the difference between the outer season in nature and the inner mind-body season. For me, the symptoms of lag include not feeling ready for whatever is happening outside, being unprepared for nice weather or bad weather, being unprepared for beauty, feeling like I’ve missed all the beauty that I might have seen.
When spring moves in quickly like it did this year, a week or two ahead of last year, it is easy to be put a little off balance. In Yellow Springs winter, it seems that May will never come, and consequently I often think I have a lot more time than I really do. That, of course, sets me up for getting behind. In summer, my body believes the green will last forever. Summer tells me it will never end. Seasonal lag is the result of believing the soft message of the south wind. I want to believe that these are the best and most beautiful days, and that there will always be one more of them. I know better, but I wallow in self-deception anyway.
In the fall, unless I pay close attention, the leaves can surprise me and turn suddenly, overnight. I just get used to the fall colors, and then they disappear. Then it starts all over again. Numbed by the cold and the gray skies, I feel winter will never end. So even when the crocus and the snow drops appear, I know, but I don’t believe. I want to believe, but my body, still lazy in its hibernation, stays in January. My lethargy and lack of faith keep me behind even though I may be dreaming of the fresh grass and bright sun.
The only antidote I’ve found for my tendency to lag is to put myself in the presence of each season longer. If it is iris time, and I only see iris every couple of days as I pass by someone’s house, the actual length of the iris season in my senses may be less than a minute, even if the iris stay in bloom two weeks. If I miss the Virginia bluebells down river from the covered bridge, and spend only 30 seconds on the pear blossoms downtown, forget to pay attention to the apple blooms, enjoy the daffodils only twice on the way to work, notice just five robins and 10 cardinals, stop to smell the mock orange three times, what have I seen of spring? I have journeyed through March, April and May, but I’ve spent just an hour there. No wonder summer can surprise me.