"The Loons Land Tomorrow"

She proclaimed it as truth
returning from the third dog walk of the day
down to the point
the edge of the shore
to see the melting ice
to breath in the moist north east wind
charting the course of the thaw
and the song of the white throated sparrow
and the rasping red winged blackbirds
staking their urgent claims
and mud was the colour of her dogs

Alder catkins ready to seed

 Ant swarm. She thought it looked a bit like spilled caviar.

 Edge

Trumpeter swan greeters

 Still Life: Winterkill bluegill with Pin Oak.  The mechanism by which this fish arrived in the forest over 100 yards from the water's edge remains unclear.

Of course as soon as the snow is gone, come all manner of ticks.

 Only about a third of the ice has gone, but I determined an evening paddle and a first cast with crappie fly attached to the four weight.

 Honeycomb

Gator