April 26th
The 116th Day of the Year
Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon:
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained its noon. Stay, stay,
Until the hasting day
Has run
But to the evening;
And having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.
We have short time to stay as you;
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay
As you or anything.
We die
As your hours do, and dry
Away
Like to the summer’s rain;
Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,
Ne’er to be found again.
Robert Herrick
Sunrise/set: 5:42/7:24
Day’s Length: 13 hours 42 minutes
Average High/Low: 66/45
Average Temperature: 55
Record High: 88 – 1986
Record Low: 30 – 1919
Weather
Today brings some of the best odds for sun and warmth so far this spring. Highs rise to the 80s on 30 percent of the afternoons, to the 70s on 35 percent, making April 26th the day most likely to be warm in the first four months of the year. Sixties occur 15 percent of the time, and cooler 50s the remaining 20 percent. Skies are clear to partly cloudy 70 percent of the days, and rain occurs just one year out of five. This is one of two April days on which frost almost never strikes (the 30th is the other day).
Natural Calendar
`Late Spring arrives when the antlers of deer begin to grow, when the first parsnips bloom, the first indigo bunting arrives, the last daffodils disappear, and bumble bees come out for pollen. The first blue jay is born in the first days of Late Spring, and all the garden weeds are sprouting. In the woods, wild phlox, wild geranium, wild ginger, celandine, spring cress, sedum, golden Alexander, thyme-leafed speedwell, garlic mustard and common fleabane are budding and blooming.
`Black tadpoles swim in the backwaters. Bass move to the shallows. Great brown “June” bugs Phyllophaga) begin their evening flights. Allergy season intensifies with Late Spring, the time when trees are in full flower throughout the Great Plains, the Northeast, the Northwest and the Rocky Mountains. And in the Southeast, all the grasses are coming into bloom.
Daybook
1982: First pie cherry blooms in the back yard.
1983: Covered Bridge: Wild phlox is strong now, purple and blue, white violets common, first ragwort at the swamp, first white trout lily, lots of toad trillium, small flowered buttercups, bluebells. Only a few violet cress in bloom, one last twinleaf, no bloodroot.
1984: Cascades: First day in the 80s. Toothwort full, some Solomon’s seal open, bellwort budding. Rue anemone, trillium grandiflorum, yellow trout lily, hepatica, bloodroot, violet cress, toad trillium, bluebells, cowslip, meadow rue all open and still in the middle of Middle Spring. Jack-in-the-pulpit up but not fully formed.
1985: Fleabane blooms in the lawn. Trip to Washington, DC: From Springfield east, the canopy is green, thick and young, not completely full. Some May sweet rocket in bloom by Zanesville. Dogwoods are open on the hillsides, coltsfoot all gone to seed in the Pennsylvania mountains, probably in full bloom two weeks ago. North Maryland is lush with viburnum, redbuds, and bridal wreath, apple orchards full bloom, dogwood scattered through the hills, low mountains yellow-green with trees in flower. Roadside staghorn sumacs are getting leaves, sycamores and maples with half-size leaves. In Washington, everything is in full bloom, azaleas prominent. Yellow poplar leaves are completely formed, and Virginia creeper. Garlic mustard almost gone.
1988: Ginkgo and sugar gum leafing, tree line has a full green tint, but the oaks are still bare, open branches still predominate in North Glen (like between Columbia, South Carolina up the mountains into Asheville this March 28th). Garlic mustard very early bloom now,. Raspberries budding. Connie writes: “On Tuesday (the 26th) there was a circus of shad spawning, which had the community in an uproar. People came from all over (I saw a car from Greene County) to check it out. The kids were trying to snag them with bare hooks – they were that thick.”
1989: Rhubarb has huge seed heads, and the stalks are big enough for pie. Middle Spring is ending, garlic mustard early bloom. From Clifton Road, looking into the creek valley, the tree line finally has major patches of pale green. Redbuds full bloom. Library crab apples just beginning. At home, the apple and cherry are fully open, dogwoods in town pacing them. Cactus cress full bloom South Glen.
1990: Viburnum in full bloom at Wilberforce. Saw two squirrels mating in the back trees.
1991: Common fleabane has been out for a few days. Raspberries full bloom. Apple petal fall starts today, honeysuckles budding, plums and cherries still hold all their flowers.
1992: Dandelion fields have gone to seed.
1993: First mosquito in the house this morning. Bleeding hearts full bloom. Early daffodils in the south garden fade, middle varieties still strong, some just opening. Redbuds brighter, just beginning to open. Spring beauties full bloom in village lawns. Purple magnolia dropping petals. Foliage coming out on the forsythia, some bushes half yellow, half green. Blue jays very loud and aggressive. Some of the Japanese knotweed comes up to my chest. Asiatic lilies a foot or more, daylilies a little taller. First winter cress seen on the way to Wilberforce. Garlic mustard has shot up in the last two days, is budding now. First forget-me-nots in the east garden.
1995: Winter cress seen in full bloom on the way to Wilberforce. Tulips have peaked. Ranunculus/buttercup is budding in the south garden. First wild ranunculus opens in the lawn. The witch hazel along Dayton Street and the red oak at the school yard have just started to leaf; the lindens in the triangle park are a little ahead of them. Box elder leaves are getting big now, maybe a third of their full size. Brunera flowered for the first time this afternoon. Silver maples are leafing everywhere, filling out lush with seeds and new foliage. Red maples are red-orange with large new seedpods. Honeysuckles and peonies are budding.
1998: Bluebells about gone in the yard, only a few blossoms hold. First azalea petals spread out this morning, they have seemed ready to open for days now. In the pond, another fish has disappeared: Flash, who was orange with white markings. Goldie, the most skittish and spacey of the koi, was taken by some predator at the end of March. She had been our favorite fish, unusual in her yellow and black markings, and quite excitable. When we fed the school, the others would come to the surface and feed right away, but Goldie would race back and forth along the bottom until she calmed down and finally came to the top to get the last pieces. I remember reading something in Isaac Walton about a frog that leapt on the back of a giant pickerel and hung on until the fish was exhausted and finally expired. And several years ago, Mrs. Bletzinger told me how she had witnessed a frog jump on the back of one of her pond carp and cling to it until they both disappeared beneath the water. In the case of Goldie, I suspect her killer might be Jacques, the green frog which came to the pond last fall. I imagine him crouching under one of the flat stones of the waterfall at the west end of the pond. As the fish come to feed in the algae by the running water, he leaps out in ambush, rides his prey to his lair under the falls where he holds it in the dark until it expires.
2000: Money plants are full blue, and bleeding hearts now have large red and white hearts in the east gardens; the first wild strawberry flowers in the back lawn. Bluebells in the yard are holding. Azaleas full bloom. Along the path north toward Springfield, pink and white honeysuckles are in early bloom on a few bushes. Cressleaf groundsel, like huge sensuous winter cress, is budding in the wet ditches. Garlic mustard is in full flower. The first sweet rocket is open. Cardinals still fly back and forth across the path, but the grackles from earlier this month have disappeared or grown silent, guarding their nests.
2001: Pink quince, star of Bethlehem, and celandine open today as redbuds turn pale and get their leaves. Dandelions still at their peak. Strawberries full bloom, rhubarb ready for pie. Amy says she found a box turtle on April 21st. She also told me that morels emerge when May apples are completely out of the ground.
2004: Hostas half size, astilbes well developed. The tree line along the highway are pale green. Violets, pale pink azaleas, dead nettle, one bluebell, and lilacs full bloom. Early to middle petal-fall of apples about town, but our redbud, the new red crabapple, and the red tulips below it are in full bloom. Celandine has been open for two days. All daffodils dead-headed. Oak-leaf hydrangea leaves are about two inches long. Asiatic and Oriental lilies are one to two feet tall. Red quince has finished its cycle.
2005: Robins begin their chorus at 3:55 a.m. EST, cardinal at 4:15.
2006: Neysa reports red termites swarming in her apartment in Miami Beach.
2007: The first star of Bethlehem has opened in the north garden. First garlic mustard flowers seen in the boulevard in front of our house. Two viburnum shrubs from North Carolina and most of our forsythia very slow coming back, may be seriously damaged. The bamboo leaves have been shedding more rapidly as new growth has begun on its branches. Peonies and lily of the valley have very small buds, and many ferns are over a foot tall. Bittersweet buds showing some green.
2008: At the Daniel Boone State Park near Richmond, Kentucky, we found a woods full of Miami Mist, wild blue phlox, larkspur and white violets. Dogwoods and redbuds here, the tremendous varieties of luminescent greens, the same as through the mountains to the south, mark this time of the year the very best for driving the Border States.
2009: Sleeping with the windows open, we heard the robin chorus start about 5:00 a.m. First cardinals and doves noticed at 5:20. Nine-bark leaves are losing their yellow newborn color. White and red mulberry trees are budding now.
2011: Celandine seen in bloom this morning as we walked around the yard, and redbud flowers are falling. Dogwoods are open now around the neighborhood, a nice one at the Catholic church – their Japanese maple fully leafed, and blue speedwells in the lawns, white daffodils at Don’s (his cherry tree still in bloom). Our crab apple has begun to bloom. Bleeding hearts in full flower in the alley, and knotweed has grown up to six feet. Violets, dandelions, lilacs, creeping Charlie and deadnettle at their best, red quince dwindling, honeysuckles deeply budded. Clouds gave way a little to sun this afternoon, but tornadoes ravaged Arkansas last night. April has seen the most tornadoes in April history. Tonight, vespers of robins, cardinals and sparrows. From Vermont, Cathy writes: “Spring has sprung here – daffodils are up and blooming. The vole has become bold and runs through the room with us in it. He just ran past me, not 4 feet away. I can hear him (or her) in the kitchen rummaging around. Maybe it’s time to set the live trap. I’ll miss its company.”
2012: The first purple clematis opened on the trellis today, many more seen throughout town. Black walnuts pace the American beech trees leafing out, leaves about a fourth of their full size. And I wonder at the beauty and wisdom in this repetition, accumulation, rhythm, the song, the adventure of the recurring path: so that each fragment is blessed with such a history and promise that summary is impossible, that only enumeration can quiet the hunger for understanding.
2013: The robins and cardinals were in full song when I went out this morning at 4:45. Middle Spring quickly bringing down pear petals and serviceberry petals. Forsythia darkening and losing its flowers, filling in with leaves – so that the hedge in front of the house offers complete privacy now. Honeysuckles are well leafed now and developing buds. The latest daffodils hold, and tulips are still prominent. Paulownia buds continuing to expand, but not leafing yet. Peonies with prominent small buds. Rhubarb bushy. If I had a larger patch, the stalks would provide a pie. At the quarry, redbuds, pears planted by birds were in full flower, a very early weigela was open.
2014: Don’s pie cherry tree is in bloom, as are all the pears and redbuds, crab apples coming in a little late, off schedule. Star magnolia leaves pace the dusky leaves of the serviceberry trees. Red quince still full along the northeast fence. At the south entrance to the North Glen, Jack-in-the-pulpits, toad trilliums, nodding trilliums. At home, the first small fritillary, the first cabbage white, and the first sulphur – the first butterflies of the year in the yard. Vicki sent a message: the robin eggs that she had been watching all week hatched today.
2015: Hosta transplanting time: almost all the plants are up a little, many a foot or so. In the triangle park, all the crab apples are in full flower. First celandine found in bloom by the south wall, and the struggling white bleeding heart that Jeanie planted has blossoms. Four cabbage whites whirl in spring randori through the back yard, the first time I’ve seen more than one at time. Allium well budded. On the college lawn, masses of spring beauties, violets, dandelions. Throughout the village, crab apples full and coming in, some pears leafing. Rachel’s ginkgo has foliage half an inch long.
From Goshen, Indiana, Judy lists the following plants found on her walk today, confirming her season about ten days behind the Yellow Springs season: “purple (deep purple and blue) and yellow violets, spring beauty, wood anemone, false rue anemone, cut-leaf toothwort, trout lily, Dutchman’s britches, wild blue phlox, bloodroot, nodding trillium and two-leafed toothwort. And of course garlic mustard, just budding. I always want to yank it up. The big trilliums aren’t out yet. This weekend we’ll go to the park in Benton and see Solomon’s seal, huge fields of big trilliums and spring beauty, toad trilliums and more. May apples are up but of course not budding yet.”
2016: The wood hyacinths are in full bloom now, and the first Indian hyacinth started to flower overnight. A few late daffodils hold on to highlight the violets of the hyacinths. Some tulips still keep their petals, but they are getting raggedy and disheveled. Near the porch, the blue windflowers still keep their blossoms, but the glory-of-the-snow is down to maybe a fourth of its earlier glory. The orange trumpet creeper at the southwest corner of the patio is just starting to send out its leaf buds. The bluebells by the annex-shed are weakening now, stalks long and gangly like on this day in 1998. I planted the northwest zinnia plot this morning, moved some goldenrod put in two small dogwoods one on either side of the north trellis. First honeysuckle blossom seen along Limestone Street. An entire row of full blooming, purple iris seen near Greene Street.
2018: Knotweed knee high. Bamboo to three or four inches. Peonies red-forest green, leafing, high as knotweed now. Bluebells full and tall, periwinkle still open. Forsythia hedge filling in with leaves like the honeysuckles, all finally offering more defense against the sidewalk and street. Pears and serviceberry trees lush with white flowers together, star and pink magnolias still prominent, peaches still blooming, first apples unraveling, the cold spring allowing the early trees to avoid a mid-April frost. Jill’s garden has one large celandine blossom. Creeping phlox, violet, common in dooryards and window boxes. Hydrangeas are leafing out, the hobblebush with inch-long sprouts. Violets all over the lawn, with spring beauties still in some yards. On the way to Beavercreek, boulevards covered with dandelions in bloom, the earliest areas white with seed heads. This afternoon: two cabbage whites in mating randori over the circle garden.
2019: Neysa sent a photograph of deep purple lilacs in bloom and a large ginestra in full yellow flower. She says it is the non-fragrant kind; the fragrant ginestra blooms in May. A moth got in the house today. I found it on the shower wall this evening.
2020: A week or so ago, I was working in my greenhouse, pinching back stalky plants, when I accidentally broke off a long stalk of a geranium plant.
The lanky stem had a flower bud, and I immersed it in a tall, clear vase half full of water and put it on the kitchen table.
This was a simple bouquet, unremarkable and plain, but it soon gave birth to a squiggly larva that added an extra interest to breakfast time.
As April advanced, my partner, Jill, and I kept track of it as we ate. Each morning, it repaid our attention by swimming erratically around in the white, new-grown geranium roots, working its way to the surface and then back down to the bottom.
One morning, we noticed it had changed into a tiny pupa, a black creature that looked a little like a shrunken tadpole and was just a little larger than a pinhead. The pupa was more adventurous than the larva, and since Jill and I had never seen a mosquito pupa, we kept track of it for almost a week as it travelled up and down the glass vase.
Then on April 23, we were drinking coffee and we saw that our companion had changed shape once again and had become a fat mosquito. Unaware of its option to fly up and out the bottle neck, it continued its larval and pupal pattern of exploration. But it was only a matter of time before it escaped.
Having protected the previous forms of this creature, it seemed barbaric to kill it. We hadn’t given it a name, but, nevertheless, we had become fond of its unexpected presence and of its lessons to us about its development. We knew that if we allowed it to escape into the house, it could become an enemy and either bite one of us or die trying.
So I took it outside and set it free.
And then I wondered what to make of this incident, and I took a kind of informal inventory of my feelings. In a way, I was grateful for having known the accidental mosquito. I felt surprised and maybe even a little lucky or honored to have observed it. For a brief time, it was an uncomplicated life form that simplified my own life. I even felt responsible for it. When I released it, I considered the possibility that it might spread disease, but since COVID-19 was attacking the whole world, one mosquito seemed harmless enough.
Jill just thought of it as a little friend. I did, too.
Can trouble live with April days,
Or Sadness with the summer moons?
Alfred , Lord Tennyson