Spring Has Sprung

These were both taken on April 13, 2026. So you get my point.

Did you know there are two first days of spring: a meteorological first day and an astronomical first day?

I just learned this from Janice Huff, the weatherperson on News Channel 4 New York. This year, the meteorological first day of spring was (and always is) March 1^st, whereas the astronomical – or vernal equinox – was (and usually is) March 20^th.

            The meteorological March 1^st date is arbitrary. The weatherpersons’ union decided each season should last three calendar months, based on their average monthly temperatures. The three coldest months are winter, and the warmest months are summer. Spring is the intervening three months, March, April, and May.

Except in Ireland. Their meteorological spring starts on February 1^st, which makes for a cold spring. But the Irish are a hearty folk, with fisherman sweaters to get them through. They’re so manly.

The vernal equinox is when the earth and sun… actually, this is too astronomically complicated for me. Look it up yourself.

Or ask Janice Huff.  She’s familiar with the vernal equinox. She doesn’t just know weather – she knows astronomy. Plus, she’s calm, upbeat, yet stern when bad storms might affect our safety. Janice Huff is the second-grade teacher of weather reporting.

Incidentally, Janice Huff is only referred to as “Janice Huff.” It’s not Janice or Miss Huff. Shakira, Madonna, and Cher (the holy trinity of one-named superstars) only call Janice Huff, “Janice Huff.”

Anyway, here in the East End, we don’t experience warm, sweet-smelling springs. Our “spring” consists of days with a damp coldness that chills our bones as we walk from the car to the Stop & Shop. Or we have blue sky days with a biting wind that chills our bones as we walk from the car to the Stop & Shop. Often the biting wind switches to the damp coldness (or vice versa) while we’re inside the Stop & Shop.

Meanwhile, on that same shopping day, Janice Huff will tell us that the folks in Manhattan spent their day walking around Central Park without so much as a light jacket. The gall.

So, we must look for our own signs of spring.

For Mr. Hockey, spring starts when East Hampton’s ice rink is broken down and Buckskill Winter Club reverts to Buckskill Tennis Club. At that point, I should probably call Mr. Hockey “Mr. Tennis,” except he doesn’t play. I can call him “Mr. Golf.”

Either way, I’d have to dub the pucks “balls.” That makes my 12-year-old-boy-brain snicker.

I know it’s spring when leaf blowers buzz outside my writing garret. The burlap Venus De Milo next to my driveway becomes a boxwood again. I begin to consider if I should get the car washed now or after pollen season.

And as I drive past the ubiquitous cherry picker lifts, I try to pronounce “Asplundh.” Is it “uh-splund,” “uh-splünd,” “as-splund,” or “as-splünd?”

The clearest indicator spring is upon us is the mole versus vole conversation. It starts like this: You see tunnels of dirt in your winter-ravaged lawn. Then you’re on a zoom call with – let’s say your writing group – and you ask your writing friends, “Does anyone have a guy who gets rid of voles? They’re digging up my lawn.”

Another writing friend says, “Those aren’t voles, they’re moles.”

Then everyone speaks, “I never can remember the difference between moles and voles.”

(This story is based on actual events. Please don’t tell the writers you read this. What we say in the writing group is supposed to stay in the writing group.)

I, too, can’t remember the difference between moles and voles. So, I extensively researched these rodents; by which I mean I noodled around the internet for twenty minutes.

Definitively, moles are under your lawn. Voles are in your garden beds. Moles eat earthworms and they dig those tunnels to catch the earthworms. Voles burrow under plants in garden beds and eat bulbs and succulent root systems, which is why your tulips never came up.

I tried to invent a pneumonic we can use to remember which is which. How about the “V” in vole looks like your tulips that never grew. And the uppercase “M” in mole looks like your dug-up blades of grass?

For nineteen of those twenty minutes, I researched how to get rid of these pests.

To remove moles, you only need to determine if a tunnel is active and then set a trap. I say it like it’s easy and I’ve done it. I have not. I’m sure Janice Huff has. You could ask her. Or you could hire a guy. Like I did.

You (or your guy) can trap voles in their tunnels too. But if you have voles, you have a lot of voles. They breed like rabbits. More accurately, rabbits breed like voles.

One vole couple can potentially result in one hundred offspring per year. And their offspring reach sexual maturity at three-weeks old! Voles basically only eat or shag. If you pressed your ear against a vole tunnel, all you’d hear is munching and Barry White’s “Let’s Get It On.”

Between the voles, moles, and cold walks from our cars to the Stop & Shop, I think Janice Huff would agree the East End’s springs are closer to Ireland in February than New York City in April. We should get some fisherman sweaters.

Because you know what they say about Irish springs. They’re manly, yes. But we like them too.

Published in The East Hampton Press on May 7, 2026

https://www.27east.com/east-hampton-press/opinion/columns/article_e3305673-15e3-4e46-ba67-84f3a8e21237.html

Photo by ME!! Weather by meteorological forces, God, or Janice Huff.