Orcas Voices: The Sounds of Spring

— by Sally Buchanan–

Spring is arriving earlier than usual this year on Orcas Island. There is that sudden and wonderful general awareness that days are growing noticeably longer and the sunshine is warmer. The red currant is blooming which means the hummingbirds are arriving – if they left at all. The daffodils around town and in gardens are blooming. Spring peepers are sounding off early evenings and there are new tadpoles in various ponds around the Island. There are also small children with collecting jars stooping over the shallows considering the merits of which tadpole should be collected for observation. Authorities are mentioned – “My brother says…” or “Grandpa says…”.

Early fishing has begun on Killebrew Lake occasionally joined by the eagles. Visitors are starting to paddle around in small inflatable boats joining a red rowboat with a fishing pole and a gentleman reading a newspaper in the sun out in the middle. Voices are hushed enough not to send the Buffleheads off in a flurry of complaints and wings. No one has caught anything yet. The Mallards are fussing down in the cattail pond across from the Lake. The Swans are regally claiming the reeds at the end of the lake waiting for the perfect time to leave and head north. No one argues with them.

This writer has been asking people around town if they could name one sound that makes them think of Spring what would it be. The answers have been as creative and varied as you might expect of our community.

A five-year-old promptly suggests the sound his boots make when he walks through thick mud. “You know. They go ‘shmuck, shmuck’ and you think they might pull off.” That brought back memories of a boot abandoned long ago along a river bank where children were not supposed to go.

A farm-raised friend likes the sound of a tractor, especially an old one, being readied for Spring work. He says he can almost smell the warm, wet earth and he can still remember the pride he felt when one Spring he was allowed to plow.
Several people mention the sound of voices from people sitting outside having coffee in the sun for the first time this season. They love how those voices seem to make Eastsound come alive again. One even admits that it means the return of comfortable eavesdropping.

The eagles are carrying bits of trailing foliage and large sticks to shore up their nests and are calling to each other in the softest trilling voices so surprising for such fierce raptors. It is a sound heard only at nesting time and when they are coaxing nestlings to try their wings.

A neighbor says she knows Spring is coming when she hears her own neighbor clipping roses with a vigor that scares her. The roses are always spectacular. It takes a real green thumb to know when to stop and when to whack away.

A friend shares that her Father always whistled “Greensleeves” when he dug the vegetable garden. She doesn’t know why that tune but it takes her back to Spring every time.

Another gardening Eastsounder laughs when he recounts that every Spring his grandfather, who lived with them, would say, “I was sure I cleaned and sharpened those tools last Fall.” And everyone avoided him as he cleaned and sharpened for fear of being recruited to help.

The Pileated Woodpeckers have stepped up their pounding on several good sized, dead trees up the road. Their progress can be measured by the piles of sawdust underneath. Several years ago the Evergreen Road area was surprised one Spring when the Pileateds nested in a dead tree above a local bocce court. They raised a nestling in one hole and a second in a hole directly underneath. The noise was impressive especially when the large heads stuck out shrieking for attention. They were not in the least bothered by early Spring bocce games.

A number of Islanders say that fragrances recall Spring for them. Not just the fragrance of flowers but sometimes those that are more fleeting. A Westsounder shares that when temperatures first begin to warm in Spring, in the early morning, there is a mixture of salt air and warm air over Westsound that is so evocative for him. He doesn’t smell it any other season.

A pre-schooler announces very seriously “that worms smell best in Springtime.” Perhaps that is why it is time to start fishing?

A long-time Islander and good friend thinks of Spring as the time of water music. She has several small waterfalls on her property that are active in Spring. They plunge into her bay rushing down from a number of sources uphill. Tracing them back up is great fun as they meander across several meadows and join streams cutting deep trenches in the roadsides. The sound of water is truly magical. The tides in the Salish Sea begin to change resulting in more daytime low tides. Pocket beaches start to reappear again and at night seals can be heard barking and chasing on the Sound. Or are those Orcas? Or Whales? Dolphins? A youngster in the neighborhood says “Dragons.”

Some Anna’s Hummingbirds hung around this winter and now are being joined by one of the smallest of North American hummers, the Rufous. Their buzz and high pitched chatter claiming territories and feeders is a telltale sound in many Spring gardens. Females are accepting sheep and alpaca wool to line their nests from a metal basket nailed to a tree. It is an exclusive address that has alpaca-lined nests for warmth and comfort.

At this end of the Island we know it is Spring when Angus, the Australian Shepherd, first hits the water in a flying leap after three months of self-imposed dry dock. And also when the Great Blue Heron shrieks and grumps from the top of a Douglas Fir claiming his territory and fishing rights.

There is comfort and reassurance in the seasons returning in reliable cycles. They bring the surprises of new experiences, expectations for the future, and warm memories from the past.