“In spring, a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love,” wrote Alfred, Lord Tennyson, in his poem “Locksley Hall” — and we are going to take the occasion of dwindling winter this week to mention that in spring an aging man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of late-February flounder and the imminent arrival of the young, early-season striped bass.
The entire world — politics, international commerce, peace and love, the weather cycle — may be in flames right at this moment, but it keeps turning. The wheel of the seasons is rolling onward to brighter days, if not for the future of humankind at least in terms of the temperature readings on the patio thermometers and the display of colors we can expect in nature’s plumage. It can be helpful even in the worst of times to, on a personal and emotional level, remember that spring is still nigh, so we are here to encourage ourselves and our readers to take an accounting of things for which we are grateful. Here’s our short list of reasons to be cheerful for the week of Feb. 20, 2025:
The ospreys will be back on their nests within three weeks or so. Thank the lord the ospreys didn’t die out in the 1970s, the heyday of the pernicious and poisonous pesticide DDT! The revival in population numbers of the fish hawk, our East Hampton “spirit animal” (to employ a current, culturally appropriated cliché), after its near extinction is practically a miracle. Change for the better is possible. Let’s never forget that.
Birds of more vibrant plumage are slowly returning to the local scene, too, from the common but chipper robin red breast to the green-winged teal, a sea duck that should be plashing in the bays in time for St. Patrick’s Day. Before dawn, the morning birdsong chorus is heard once again. Soon the peepers will be kicking up a racket in ponds, bogs, and roadside ditches near you. As the snow melts and the frost softens, the smell of the earth and growing things greets you as you walk on the trails in the relatively tick-free woods of Northwest or Hither Hills. You can even get down to the beach to look at the waves without having to swaddle yourself like Nanook of the North. We will have to wait till April or so for the full, sunshiny daffodil display, but we expect that a purple crocus or two is already pushing its nose up to the surface as we type this.
Best of all, the darkest and shortest days of winter are behind us now: We are gaining a minute and a half of sunlight each day, and the sun will set later and later today, tomorrow, and all the days onward to the summer solstice.