First Day of Spring on a Gravel Road

Around the corner from us is the Thorny Acres Arboretum. It is a huge tract of land owned by a retired doctor couple. They have lovingly cared for the land, planting trees, cultivating environmentally sensitive areas, repairing the fence, providing a relatively safe place for deer, raccoons, wild turkeys, birds, critters and native plant species. They wouldn't let anyone in to walk at all- I asked some years ago- and I've always respected that, though the existence of a fence, a huge piece of land and a NO TRESPASSING sign on the gate have been tempting.

This morning it was frosty cold and the north wind was biting, but the sun was out and the sky was that magical, spotless, clear blue. The sun was just up over the horizon and the air was filled with the spring calls and sounds of thousands of birds. The Gravel Road is a noisy place!

The night world of animals is quite hidden, unless you're out and about at night. Raccoons, I'm assuming, had tipped over the plastic garbage can on wheels, opened the lid and gotten their midnight snack (lock the lid) and all the sunflower seeds were neatly cleaned up from the pieces of wood I'd spread them out from. If it were birds, the shells would still be there. These surfaces were lickety split clean.

At the Arboretum, there are more tell tale critter signs. A winding, narrow swath of dirt brown grass is flattened leading from the 'inside' of the fence to the outside. Dozens of raccoon tracks are frozen in the roadside gravel. Along the road, in the areas that get squishy on spring days, deer tracks. Very lightly impressed into the mud... wild turkey footprints. Places in the fence where the deer can jump over the barbs safely, the wire bent down. A hole through matted grass where the raccoons can get in and out of the arboretum.

I have neither camera nor plaster of Paris with which to record these. But I find it a simple wondrous joy to be aware of these things.

In the early mornings, the gravel road is rock hard, frozen, solid. There's still some frost in the ground and at nighttime, it freezes, just enough. The early morning is the best time to get out for a walk at this time of year. Although the edges of the road are squishy, the centre, where everyone drives and the two tracks have been driven over time and time again, it feels like pavement.

I love the feeling of the road under my feet. It's quiet, too, although the bird sounds are really loud. I can barely hear the white noise from the 401 a few miles south of us.

The killdeer are back, looking for suitable puddles of gravel and leaves to make their nests, so we know spring is really here. They're a curious bird. Of the sandpiper family, they don't perch. They fly and they walk on the ground. Their nests are highly camouflaged, but on the ground. The eggs blend in with the stones and dirt around and it takes a very keen eye and lots of passing by to detect them. When the eggs hatch, the babies are up and walking. There's no time for them to learn to fly.

I have a choice of going left or right out of the laneway. Sometimes it depends on the wind direction. Otherwise, it's by whimsy. There are miles and miles of roads to walk, but they aren't all open and free for walkers. There are dogs, and not all of them are used to pedestrian traffic. It makes my walk ciruitous, an around the block kind of walk. Around the block on the gravel road is a 6 km walk, an hour and a bit if I hoof it, 90 minutes at a good pace.

Yesterday I broke out the bike! The road was still solid and I took it out for a spin. No helmet, no bike gloves, no bike pants. Just my gardening gloves. It was a glorious 2 km ride, up to the "corner" and back. Made all the difference in the world. Just that first ride. If I get the bike rack out, I can take the bike into the city and hit the trails. But for today, just knowing that I could ride was all I needed.