As I write this, I tense with uncomfortable anticipation of what I hope will be our last snow event of the winter. Has spring sprung yet? I know it’s trying, but it appears it’s a slow crawl this year.

That’s all right, though. When I was a kid, I remember playing football in the snow during our family’s Easter get-together, which was coincidentally after Easter. The fact that we can at least see the ground right now and even enjoy the first blushes of green grass is nothing I take for granted. 

Earlier today, my wife and I took the long way home to look at some things out and about that we had been talking about. The kids were asleep in the back of the car so it behooved us to slowly drive the winding back roads of Bethany/Honesdale on our return home. 

As we went, we saw more than a few anglers enjoying the cold waters in pursuit of trout—trout season opened this past weekend in Pennsylvania. We were having a conversation about old barns and what they were made from. The conversation stemmed from first passing a few old barns, each with its own unique shapes and structures. It occurred to us that no one builds the big cool barns of yesteryear anymore. You still see big barns, to be sure, but most are short and long and wide and are shaped like squares. They’re engineered by larger manufacturers or simply assembled as pole barns designed to be filled out according to any general use. 

Coincidentally, we later passed a shed and gazebo lot, which held a timber-framed pergola. The strongest most quality methods of construction and joinery now only seem to serve us as aesthetics rather than the skeletons of legacy buildings, used for generations without collapse. Just an observation, but if I had my way and a heap of time, I’d sure love to timber-frame an old-timey barn with not a screw nor nail till the siding was put on.

We kept talking about old barns and what was in them and why they were worth the monumental effort as we drove along. Soon we found that as we meandered along the creek, we were suddenly surrounded by dark giants, adorned in feathery foliage. Hemlocks, great and round and tall and straight, littered the creek bottom and the rest of the low valley around us. They must have known we were talking about them in no uncertain terms. After all, great straight hemlocks are some of the most desirable fodder for barn siding. Not so much for the frame itself, but an important element when covering the structures to protect them from the elements. 

We came to the end of this thought and the road we were passing the time with, and made the final few miles home as our cherubs began to moodily awake from their automobile-induced slumber. As we got home, we took note of how the garlic has decided to spring up in the last few days, and wondered what else might be growing around the property this early. With this in mind, we took a stroll down to the greenhouse to inspect what surprises might be in store. We keep a number of strawberry plants in our greenhouse, which I almost missed last year, because I didn’t anticipate their early fruiting due to being inside the heated dome. 

This year, it appears, we thought to check them just in time. Even with some ripped plastic on one of our doors, it was noticeably warmer in the greenhouse. There was a wash of green throughout—mostly weeds, mind you—but after the last few months, it was a welcome color nonetheless. 

Heading down the first aisle, we saw most of our strawberry plants seemed to have wintered quite comfortably and were waking up with gusto. Then, as we surveyed the bushy green leaves, we spied a flower. First it was just one, then a couple more, and as we moved leaves aside, we soon discovered there was quite the littering of small white petals ready to bring forth delicious strawberries. 

April, it seems, will be bringing our fruits even earlier than last year, assuming these flowers don’t just fall off. In any case, we have even more plants coming in to be planted shortly after Easter. I’ll take those over a snowy football game any day. But hey, I like my berries.

The way out here, we know spring is here when the plants tell us it’s here. It may be snowing tomorrow, but we’ll take a few precautions and we’ll get right back to spring as previously scheduled without a second thought. I just hope the Easter bunny doesn’t sneak into our greenhouse for a strawberry snack!