Astute readers of the Dope know that the seasons do not “officially” begin and end at the solstices and equinoxes, as the makers of calendars purport. In fact, Cecil points out that meteorologists consider June, July, and August to be “summer,” which by extension would make Sep/Oct/Nov “fall,” Dec/Jan/Feb “winter,” and March 1 the first day of “spring.” This closely corresponds to the traditional understanding (none of my military history books, which are seriously concerned with the start of the campaign seasons in the past, have ever described March as “winter,” for example) and to the weather as I have experienced it.
So yesterday afternoon, March 1, I’m walking one of my dogs here in Virginia and I spot a brownish, reddish lump sitting in the grass in the distance. It looks like a ball or something. As we approach, it hops, and I realize it’s a robin.
The first one I’ve seen this year.
That would make it the proverbial first robin of spring. “Official” evidence that spring has already arrived!
So later this month, when the know-it-all wannabes start yakking about the first day of spring, tell them it already happened and they missed it.
I always think of that “first robin in spring” thing in oh, December, when there are robins walking around my yard. THEY. NEVER. LEAVE. I’m not that far south, either — certainly no further south than Virginia!
Oh and wheee!!! Spring!! The daffodils and crocuses are poking their leaves up. Definitely spring is on they way.
No. Not spring till I can leave the windows open all day and the spring bulbs start to sprout. Neither has happened yet.
It’s been my observation here, where I live, that the solstices and equinoxes match the real arrival of the seasons exactly. September for example may sound like fall, but the first two-three weeks of it are usually the hottest of the year.
It’s not spring until I see daffodils, and not one dil had daffed yet.
The only starts to the seasons that have defined dates to me are on Thanksgiving Day, just after the first slice of pie, and the Friday before Memorial Day, at exactly 3:00 pm.
Spring has definitely sprung here. My daffodils are blooming, as are my lily-of-the-valley and all the pear trees in town. It was 80 degrees on Sunday.
If he does he is not altogether correct. (Starting when it’s winter) meteorologists consider it “spring” when the mean temperature measured over a period of 24 hours has stayed above 0 C (32 F) during 7 days in a row. “Summer” is when the mean temperature during 7 days has stayed above 10 C (50 F). “Autumn” is when it creeps down under 10 C (50 F) again and “winter”, at last, is when it goes down to below 0 C (32 F) (in both cases of course during 7 days in a row). What date it is doesn’t enter into it.
Mid-50’s feel warm right now. Been a long winter. If I say anything about spring, someone will remind me that I used to remind them about some sizable March snowfalls in the Philadelphia area.
There was a major snowstorm in New England in the late 90s on April 1st. By major, I mean I couldn’t get out my front door. I’ve rarely seen anything that big, not even this year.
Everyone remembers that. Few people remember that exactly a year later we had a heat wave.
I planted my vegetable garden over 3 weeks ago. I can’t remember the last time Atlanta had such an early spring. It came after an unusually cold December and January, too.
