Possibility of Spring

This wasn’t supposed to be a blog-writing day, but I feel I have some “stop press” news that must be shared, along with photographic evidence.

I almost hesitate to share this wild idea, but I think there is a small chance that … dare I even speak the thought? … spring might have arrived.

I hasn’t just been the rain.

So. Much. Rain.

Record-breaking rain.

It’s also been cold. Brr. We have lived on the same street for 25 years now. Normally at this time of year, it’s a candy-floss fiesta of pink blossoms. This year, it looks like this.

But yesterday, the rain stopped. The sun came out.

It’s actually mild enough to stop and stand in the garden and watch what’s happening.

These are a few of the amazing things I saw going on in the garden in just one hour this morning.

Chickadee calling his heart out in the snowbell tree

One of my favourite hellebores.

A fox sparrow taking a breather on the garden fence.

A crow with nesting on his mind. I saw George with a twig in his broken beak earlier this week.

Norther Flicker on the peak of our roof – taking a short break from hammering on the metal chimney.

The daphne bush that was crushed with snow all winter has survived!

Buds starting on the coral bark maple. Oh, and a crow.


Song sparrow in the Harry Lauder’s Walking Stick (aka Corkscrew Hazel).

A bushtit at the feeder. Only one pair came – not the usual “suet-feeder clogging” crowd. A sure sign that they’re getting ready to nest. And one of them left the garden with some moss in it’s beak.

Goldfinch stopping at the bird bath for a little paddle.

I’m sure the birds have known it’s spring for weeks now, in spite of the weather. They’ve got important business to be dealing with, rain or no rain.

I’ve just been a bit slow on the uptake, what with the amount of time and effort needed to struggle into full rain gear and wellies for every excursion — and then the overwhelming desire to get back inside as soon as humanly possible.

Now that it’s stopped raining for five minutes, I strongly suggest spending a few minutes outside.  Just drink it all in and catch up with the birds.


12 thoughts on “Possibility of Spring

    • Lovely to see so many examples of spring. Can it really be here, almost??? Thanks for the collection of photos. My sign that spring is here is the fact that my garlic is happily growing in my community gardens. FYI the P building is gone and the raised plots at CapU are once again accessible (closed off for 3 months). My plot will have glorious sunshine this summer (Mother Nature willing), with that building gone as the sun was blocked previously until mid morning. (Can I point out a typo under the first photo?…editing days, m’dear. Miss working with you.).

      • Lol. I can’t even see the typo. Must have breathed in too much wax and resin from this afternoon’s encaustic endeavours (in spite of the mask.) When you retire from Cap I’ll have to get you over here as my eagle eyed editor. Miss working with you too!

  1. So very lovely, thank you for your photo essay. Still slogging rain gray in central New York State. But our crows and chickadees are thinking of or actually beginning nesting too, yet the only thing green is the moss and my snow drops. Soon!

  2. For signs of spring in Vancouver, first look down, not up at the clouds, to see the green growth and the buds forming. Then pay attention to the birds. They know it’s been spring for a while. We’ve had a hummingbird collecting spiders’ webs for her nest, the Gold Finches are going their bright yellow, and the House Finches are singing their love songs. So it is definitely spring!


  3. We have a little pond in our backyard. Every year there is a day when the pond is suddenly filled with frogs – dozens of big, healthy frogs – doing their best to preserve the species. I always wonder how they know that it is THAT day when they should meet at the pond and not the day before or the day after. We call it “Humping Frog Day” and it is the first day of spring! Thanks for the lovely photos!

  4. You cleared up a mystery for me! Took a l walk from 700 block Broadway over to Granville Island on Thursday and was arrested in my tracks by the sound of hammering on the light standard above me. I was sure it looked like a flicker, but couldn’t reconcile this behaviour with the woodpecker-type sound. But, seeing your photo, I realize that’s what it was. Is this typical for them to do at this time of year???

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