Chris Hardie

For as long as I can remember, the sprawling silver maple trees have stood on the lawn area of our farm.

Memorial Day weekend is the sort-of unofficial start to summer even though the solstice is still a few weeks away.

The changing of the seasons is affirmed with the arrival of our migrating avian friends. These actual snowbirds have come to tell us that spring is here.

I have a confession to make that will not shock long time readers of this column or anyone who knows me.

I’m putting the blame squarely on Mother Nature’s shoulders, but it’s happening again this year, despite my best efforts to prevent it. 

Can anyone honestly say they are really surprised that Old Man Winter isn’t quite done?

Late season snow storms always take me back to March 24, 1979 in the tiny town of Franklin in Jackson County.

In the course of my writing over the years, the topic of spring is among my most frequent musings.

Experience is the teacher of all things.

Being Wisconsin born and raised on a farm, I can honestly say that I’ve dealt with much of the worst that winter can offer.