As we were walking this week my daughter suddenly exclaimed “Oh, I was trying to figure out what is different. The trees have leaves!” The winter-like cold gave way to an almost early to mid-summer feel as this week progressed and nature changed quickly in response. Last week I thought that we would see the leaves begin to grow larger slowly and that the trout lilies would begin to blossom. The size of the leaves of all of the different types of trees has increased very quickly and the trout lily flowers have come and gone.  
    The spring peepers have been active for weeks now, but there were many days this past week when they peeped during the day as well as in the night. As the weather has warmed they have ceased their work in the day and their night chorus is deafening. We have done some experimenting to see what makes them quiet down the quickest. We mostly believed that it was noise, but after we tried being loud and yelling, they only quieted a little. One of my research assistants tried jumping up and down on the ground and the peepers stopped their peeping completely for a while. The “plip, plips” that we heard in the pond last week as the small frogs hopped out of sight beneath the bent, tan-colored cattail leaves of last summer that line the edge of the pond, have turned into “plop, plops” as the larger frogs have emerged from their winter abodes beneath the mud at the bottom of the pond.  By the end of the week the clear get that holds the frog eggs together was completely gone.  As the week progressed, we watched it deteriorate.  We are concerned that algea blooms in the ponds may be a sign of pollution and that it might be effecting the eggs.  At one point we decided to poke the egg masses with a stick to be sure that the tiny tadpoles were alive.  Upon being poked, some of the comma-shaped tadpoles wriggled their tiny, shiny, black bodies and drifted slowly toward the bottom of the pond.  They were all very much alive!
    One morning as I sat observing the pond, I heard the low drone of many buzzing bees. I noticed that a willow tree at the pond’s edge was being visited by around twenty or more bumblebees. I did some research and found out that the bees were getting nectar from the emerging catkins on the branches. It turns out that willow trees are an important early source of food for bumblebees.  
    Although we can’t see the nest, we think that the baby crows have hatched. The constant evening chatter that comes from the nest seems to be being made by more than one or two birds. We have observed the adult crows bothering the grackle nest. At first I thought the crow was probably just trying to steal the eggs from the nest because I have seen it steal eggs from my chicken coup, but I found out that crows will eat baby birds. We also noticed a new bird in the woods this week. The hermit-thrush. The song of the hermit-thrush is my favorite. A sing-songy, flute-like melody.  
    I am wondering how the evening frog chorus will change this coming week as different types of frogs have become active. I am also wondering if cattail shoots will start to emerge along the edge of the pond. I know that they are growing underneath the water, as I have observed them in shallow wet areas near the pond, but they have yet to have grown tall enough to be seen above the surface.  

     ​I have heard it said that if you don't like the weather in Maine, just wait a minute.  That cliche proved true this week at our house.  The grass had just started to turn green.  Tiny dandelion leaves were starting to emerge among the taller straw-colored blades of last year's grass.  Then Sunday we got a foot of snow.  The first forecast was for 5 inches, then it wasn't going to accumulate.  By the time the storm happened, it was being touted as a rare spring Nor'easter.  Needless to say, my first visit to the pond to journal was not what I expected it would be like in May.  
    The aura of white light that accompanies snow and always reminds me of Christmas greeted me as I made my way to the pond the first day.  My husband suggested that I wear snowshoes but I refused.  It was mid-May after all. They would have proved useful, however, as I "post-holed" with each step.  The small stream that trickles out of the upper pond to the lower pond was burbling down over the rocks that line its course, green grass at its edges as it's motion and relative warmth gave hope that spring would eventually conquer the last remnants of winter.  The small buds on the willow trees that grace the edge of the pond also gave one reason to remember that the deep and unwelcome snow was only temporary.  As for now, nature is catching a few extra winks under its blanket of white.  As evening approached it felt surreal to hear the spring peepers calling in a world devoid of color.   
     As the week progressed the snow slowly melted.  We were surprised by how much the grass had greened underneath.  Later in the week, as we walked around the pond with only the occasional patch of bright white snow here and there, we saw ripples and heard "plip" "plip" as frogs quietly moved beneath the surface of the water as they sensed us coming.  We are not sure if they were hearing us, seeing us, feeling the motion as we walked, or a combination of all three.  We were surprised to see many frog egg clusters floating just beyond our reach at the edge of the open water.  There are many more than we remember seeing in years past.  We even noticed cloudy white clusters attached to foliage near the bottom of the pond.  Those are salamander eggs, I believe.  
     On Thursday, as we sat and watched the pond we saw water skaters quickly darting along its surface and cattail shoots just starting to poke their green heads out of the mud.  A kingfisher chattered as it skimmed the surface looking for small fish.  We have a male and female mallard that visit often.  We think that the female likely has a nest somewhere close.  One year she nested right up next to the house.  Another year she presented six fluffy black and yellow babies as my children and their friends celebrated a birthday party on our front lawn next to the pond.  Other birds that I am familiar with and notice their calls are the eastern phoebe and oven-bird.  The phoebe is supposed to say "Phoebe" hence the name, but I always hear "Where do you work? Rite-Aid, Rite-Aid".  It isn't traditional but it helps me identify it right off.  On Friday, for the first time this year, I heard an oven-bird.  The oven-bird calls "Teacher, Teacher, Teacher".  Earlier in the spring, we watched crows build a nest in one of the pine trees near the pond.  We've also been watching a grackle build a nest in a blue spruce in front of our bedroom window next to the upper pond. On Wednesday, one of my research assistants found an egg on the grass next to the pond.  We're not sure but we think it might be a flicker egg.  We did have two flickers visiting our suet feeder in April.  The egg prompted us to do a lot of research on the flicker and its nesting habits and to also reach out to the birding community on Facebook to help us id it.     
     The buds on the trees have increased in size as the week has progressed and the trout lilies have shot up flower stems with closed yellow buds.  I predict that by the end of next week, most of the trout lilies will have bloomed and the leaves will be as large as a mouse's ear.  These are both telltale signs that the trout will be biting. 
     I am wondering how the frog eggs will progress.  The clear gel that holds them together deteriorated as the week went on and I'm not sure if that is due to the variance in temperature, if it normally happens that fast and I have never noticed, or if some other factor is at play.  I also noticed chewed up pieces of cattail stalks which likely indicates a muskrat is around.  I haven't seen it yet.  I will keep watching.  I am looking forward to watching the flowers and leaves emerge and the baby birds that will be born. Life at the pond's edge is never dull.