Hiemipause

I don’t think my heading – Hiemipause – is a word. At least not yet. But to me, combining the idea of a gradual change over time- pause, and the latin root for winter- hiemi works very well.

Winter is slow to give up its grip on Montana. Living north of the 46th parallel means spring and fall can be ideas more than seasons and summer can succumb to a quick cold-snap or snowfall pretty quickly. So, while astronomers tell us that Spring starts on March 20-21, and meteorologists tell us that spring starts on March 1, I know that the spring begins when I hear and smell specific things.

The sounds that make me realize that spring is underway are likely family to everyone who spends any time outside. Stand still in a small woodlot and listen. Townsend’s Solitaires and Chickadees begin calling, woodpeckers can be heard knocking in a variety of locations- near and far. Northern Flickers are calling. If you are very fortunate, you will hear the rattling bugle of a Sandhill Crane. These calls can be heard for over two miles.

Long before I ever hear a Meadowlark or see a Tanager or Bunting. These sounds tell me that spring is springing up around me. I have heard all these sounds during snowfalls and at 10 degrees as well as in full sunshine and 60 degree days – and long before the first green (or pink, purple or yellow) is anywhere to be seen. But, once I hear these sounds, I know that migrating Swans and Geese are not far behind, and wildflowers after them.

The smells that alert me are deeply evocative of my childhood. Humus (soil, not chickpeas, etc.) and the damp smell of dormant grasses drying in the weak sunshine. These smells only occur in Montana when sufficient moisture is present to make the aromatic chemicals really prominent. the ground freezes overnight and thaws into a thick, slippery gumbo in the midday sun- the byproducts of decomposition release a lovely earthy aroma as the sun soften the ice-hard mud.

And, of course, skunks. In March, I begin to smell skunks here and there. Irrespective of temperature, date, snowfall- these sounds and smells tell me that summer is beginning to start fighting with winter. That rather epic battle is what passes for spring in Montana.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.