allinaword

There’s a moment each year when Lake Harriet stops looking like a frozen postcard and hints, unmistakably, that spring isn’t far off. Overnight our clocks moved forward, and today the sun is warm enough to shed yesterday’s winter armor and reach for a light jacket. The lake, still locked in its frozen embrace, has begun to loosen—puddles forming where ice stood just days ago—a quiet sign that its long winter sleep is ending. The season is shifting.

Spring is my favorite time of year with summer, a promised jewel, still far in the distance. The air softens, days grow longer, and colors return. It feels like a fresh beginning when everything is possible again.

One of spring’s most welcome sights is the return of the birds—among them Trumpeter swans from open water to the south. Close behind follow the Canada Geese from the central U.S. and Great Plains. Next the warblers and Baltimore Orioles will arrive from central and South America. And later still, once the ice gives way to open water, come the loons—Minnesota’s state bird. Their call is haunting and mournful, a long, drawn-out cry that somehow soothes as the lake finds its voice again.

After months away, I feel gratitude in returning to this familiar place and noticing the sounds, the smells, and the sense of life returning.

In the days that lie beyond, the transformation will quicken. Birds will fill the water with their myriad voices; anglers will return to the shoreline and on boats; people will walk the trails, picnic, and pack the beaches. Sailboats will appear, and the sound of concerts will echo from the Bandshell. And I’ll be back a few evenings a week, walking the shoreline on crisp spring nights and balmy summer ones—my favorite spot for quiet contemplation and escape.

I capture more of Lake Harriet’s beauty and changing moods on Instagram—come visit @lakeharrietminneapolis.