It’s spring.

This declaration has nothing to do with celestial migrations. I find it difficult to measure the transit of the sun against an “imaginary” line drawn across the heavens. I have much more definite proof!

The snowbirds are traveling north. Hundreds of RVs of every size, shape, and description, most of which are hauling little cars behind them, are on the interstate. A like number of lincoln town cars, big caddies and other land yachts are intermingled into the migration. These are all jammed to the roof with luggage and you can tell their trunks are full because their bumpers are riding inches from the pavement. They all have Michigan, Wisconsin, Illinois, Ohio, or Ontario plates. Many of them will be home for Easter.

The redbuds and wild plums are blooming. The jonquils and daffodils are on their last legs. The dogwoods in my back yard started their bloom in the last two days. I’ve got a few azalea blooms popping open. This may be the year the dogwoods and azaleas bloom together. I saw it once in 1985 and haven’t seen it since. It is truly spectacular! There is now a greenish tint to the woods as the hardwoods push their tender new leaves out.

And the most sure sign yet… I got my first sunburn of the season yesterday. I got back from a business trip and a buddy of mine and I took half the day off and went crappie fishin’. We, and several dozen other anglers, went to a little oxbow lake southeast of town. Between us we caught five or six fish, all of which were released alive due to their lack of size. A few wispy clouds in the sky, about 70 degrees, a breeze so light it didn’t make maneuvering the boat a problem, good company, and cold beer. If the fish had been bitin’ better it would have been a perfect trip.