Spring. Spring? Spring!

It isn’t quite here yet, but we are rife with harbingers. Brilliant purple among the brown oak leaves, crocuses are blooming. Daffodil buds are swelling. Birds are weaving their songs more elaborately, and the house wrens that live in our shower shack have been refurbishing their nest from last year, getting it ready for this year’s wrenlings. The goat kids are growing quickly, and we've started milking the does. Off the farm, motorcyclists are growling down the road again. The garden displays in the stores lure spring-hungry customers, myself included. Especially dangerous are the baby chicks for sale at the feed store, all fluffy and cheeping. We bought 96 of them.

This winter has felt longer than usual—we made so many plans, but could do nothing. One of these plans, now coming to fruition, is to build a moveable chicken coop for laying hens. We’ll move the coop around the pasture throughout the summer so the hens can eat bugs and grubs and grass, scratch and spread the cow pies, and fertilize while they’re at it. And they will lay delicious, nutritious eggs with the brightest yellow-orange yolks possible. We’ve been reading about this, planning this, building a budget and business plan around this, and now, in a week, after six months of theoretical chicks, actual tiny fuzzy chicks have arrived. So finally, the big start.

Winter hasn’t relaxed its grip completely. The cool rainies are coming. And even in Arkansas, you can’t discount a late freeze. Two years ago I had to make plastic pup tents for my radishes to keep the snow off. Winter isn’t completely gone yet, but we can sure feel it going.