"For now the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the Earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land."

-- Song of Solomon

Deep in March, the hunger for spring begins to drive even the most city-bound of us. Dandelions have been known to bloom in every month of the year in Oklahoma: the Bebb Herbarium at the University of Oklahoma has specimens to prove it. But in March, we notice them. On the first of March this year, I listed two plants in bloom: dandelion and bluets. That was out in the country. Norman already had peppergrass, Johnny-jump-ups, and crane's bill

On March 2, the cricket frogs began calling all night. They are probably the most reliable indicator that the season is turning, here where the water level in the marsh is controlled only by what nature provides. Their cheerful, unmusical krikk-krikk calls translate into music in my ears. Now at the beginning of April, I have recorded leopard frogs, tree frogs, and bullfrogs as well.

But it is for the flowers that we yearn. The poet Roethke put an unusual spin on that connection: "deep in their roots all flowers keep the light." It is the turning of the light, the translation of daylight from winter to summer at the spring equinox, for which all living things impatiently wait. It is the sight of dozens of Johnny Jump-ups towering a full centimeter above the winter's dead grass that fill us with a soaring joy. Never forget the joy -- it is our reward for the daily feeding of the birds through the winter's wet cold.

On the 8th of March, we had an overnight temperature of 15 degrees. There have been light freezes since then, and there undoubtedly will be more. My personal target date for frost-free is April 18, because I remember a few devastating below-28-degree temperatures on that date. One of them even caught the sturdy post oaks with newly-emerged leaves. That year, the oaks had to releaf from the stand-by buds, and were not in full leaf until May.

After the devastation of December's ice storm, we need the reassurance of the flowers and leaves, boldly produced on some of the newly scarred stumps of former limbs. In a year or two, those wounds will turn grey, new branches fill out the shocked contours, and we will find something new to worry about.

The redbuds seem brighter and more abundant than usual this year, and with the fading of the wild plums, make a cheerful show along Highway 9 out toward Lake Thunderbird State Park. It seems obvious the redbud population survived the ice storm in much better trim than the overplanted Bradford pears. But everywhere I looked for a hackberry tree, there were truckloads of Bradford pears awaiting adoption. Though I didn't ask, I also did not see redbuds for sale in the lots around Norman. I wonder why.

Now the trifoliate orange and most of the oaks and hickories are blooming, the strange little toothache tree has bloomed and is sprouting leaves, and in fact almost all the trees are showing either flowers or leaves. Trees in Oklahoma are primarily wind-pollinated, so they must produce flowers before the leaves get in the way of the wind-blown pollen. Before long there will be cascades of white, fragrant flowers on the black locusts. Those are bee-pollinated. They can afford to make leaves first.

In a sheltered spot beneath a small hackberry, I have planted an "Ozark garden," a tiny drift of Mayapple, bloodroot, trilliums and wild ginger. The bloodroot bloomed on the 21st of March; the others are yet to bloom, but in this favored location they persist and thrive. It is always a temptation to play with nature's cautious rules, just a little. I don't go outside the state for plants to naturalize as a rule, but there are the copper iris from Missouri that love the little home-made swamp in the back yard.

Birds we have year 'round: Cardinals and bluebirds don't migrate, and the many goldfinches and house finches migrate here for the winter, joining the much-scarcer Harris' sparrows at the feeders. (My sunflower seed consumption rate went down by half during the last week of March.) Still, the female red-wing blackbirds and woodpeckers help the cardinals keep the feeders busy. It's the best show in town. There are bluebirds sitting on eggs right now, proof that the insects also are appearing.

Perhaps we will have another rainy year like 2007. It's happened before that rainy years came in sets of three or four. Perhaps we will be dragging the irrigation hoses out again. With the frogs and trees showing the way, we will have to go on faith that the Earth will provide.