The Many Signs of Spring - but when does spring actually start?

All through the dark days of winter, I longed for spring to appear. Yes, there were a brief few weeks when we were plunged into a subzero, frozen wonderland, and I never wanted that to end. It came back this week, and I forgot how brutal those arctic winds can be. But all those weeks ago, after the snow melted and the snowdrops appeared, the days began to grow longer and the signs of spring began to show up.

But there are so many! From birdsong to budding trees, frogspawn to frisky hares, when does spring start (for real)?

Before I get to the technicalities, I do want to just address the gods and goddesses in the room - for folklore is rich with enchanting tales of spring. Take the hare, for example. A symbol of spring, but also of magic. In Celtic tradition, the hare symbolises rebirth - and - the ability to shape shift. And is that not what rebirth is really all about? Spring also brings us Easter, from Esotre, the goddess of spring and fertility. She is a symbol of hope and light, and in fertility rituals, eggs would be hidden in her honour. And in stark contrast to hope and light, March is named after Mars, the Roman god of war, and agriculture (of course). This was a month for inciting conflict and sowing seeds.

So How Do We Define Spring?

Daylight Savings & British Summertime

Informally, I always saw the clock change as the harbinger of spring. Once upon my student days, this was when I turned my central heating off, because, summer, you know?

The clocks went forward on the 28th March (or was it back?) … In my 35 whole years on this planet, I still don't know for sure… But I met with a friend for a swim that Sunday - we had agreed to meet at 8.30am. And at some point beforehand, she messaged me to say, you know that'll be 7.30, right? This threw me, as the concept of clock time often does.

I'm not a fan of Daylight Savings, even if it was designed to conserve energy. When it happens, I try to go by my bodyclock to keep me right. And like millions of others around the globe, we switched off all of our lights at 8.30pm on Saturday 27th March for EarthHour, and enjoyed the rest of the evening by soy candlelight. I meant to have an early night, but I'm reading an insanely compelling book at the moment (Shuggie Bain), and ended up reading for a lot longer than I expected. My bodyclock didn't stand a chance. But still, I have made such a mockery of routines of late that not knowing WTF is going on is finally an advantage. The weekend before we got up at 4.50am for an early morning cycle. This weekend I was getting up early, but not that early, for a swim. And, to the plan, when I woke up, I only cared that it was still light.

This is how I like to swan into British Summertime every year: having no idea what time it is, what day it is, or what’s going on, and just avoiding any impact of daylight savings, hoping that next year it will end.

That Sunday morning as I got dressed, I watched the skies from the bedroom window. As I got on my bike to cycle over to the loch, I kept looking up. The clouds were moving across the sky, really bloody quickly. Too quickly for my liking. Wind is not ideal for outdoor swimming in my book: I opt for swimming skins, even in winter. No wetsuits here. Yet despite the wind, it was an achievement: 25 minutes in the water. This is a steep increase from my 5 minute dips over the winter period.

Things are most definitely milder. The March proverb is, as ever, accurate: in like a lion, out like a lamb. Often wild and wintry to begin with, by the time April rolls around, a transformation has occurred.

But alas, my friends, a clock change does not a season make...

Meteorological Spring

I'll keep this one brief, and short - like the amount of time we've had Gregorian calendars compared to the whole history of the planet. So meteorologically speaking, as per the Gregorian calendar, seasons begin on the first of the month. As such spring begins on March 1st.

Satisfied? I am not. Thankfully, there are more, yes more, ways to define spring.

Astronomical Spring

According to the astronomical calendar (and Google, the authority on all things), Spring 2021 in Northern Hemisphere began on Saturday, 20 March and ends on Monday, 21 June. Astronomical seasons don't go by calendar dates - they go by the position of Earth's orbit relative to the Sun, and by the equinox or the solstice, which are due to the earth's 23.5º tilt on its axis. Thus spring starts on the spring equinox, which is around the 20th March, with summer starting on the summer solstice, around the 20th June. This year, spring did start on the 20th March, which is exactly what the RSPB weekly email informed of us last weekend. Which was funny, because I had thought we were way into spring by that point.

Who knew there were so many different definitions of spring? But I implore you, hang in there, because I'm not even close to being done.

Thermal Seasons

Sweden and Finland go by thermal seasons, which are based on the annual temperature cycle, and spring is defined as when the mean daily temperature permanently rises above 0 °C. (Permanently, for the record, is defined as when the mean daily averaged temperature remains above or below the defined limit for seven consecutive days.)

Now, I am on board with this because it ties in much more with nature, and to me, it is nature that defines the seasons.

Spring According to Nature

There used to be a citizen science project, possibly done by the Woodland Trust, that asked UK residents to record and report their first spring sightings: things like frogspawn and butterflies and certain trees coming into bud. This helped build a picture of how spring unfurled across this united island kingdom. I've no idea if the project is still going, but those Woodland Trust folks are still pretty passionate about spring. The enthusiasm is infectious (imho).

Snowdrops are one of the earliest signs of spring, but I'm going to be a stickler and say that they are really just a (delightful) winter flower - a sign that spring is on the way, by virtue of winter coming to an end. I suppose any flowers after a long hard winter are a welcome sign, which is possibly why I've felt like its been spring for about 8 weeks now. But now the daffodils are out in force, and there are crocuses (croci?) here and there. There's bumblebees and bats and budding beech, ash and elder.

Back in February, we hit that magical threshold of 10 hours of daylight. This is the point at which plants start to grow again. This is the point when I start to get anxious (and excited) about my garden plans.

This is when things kick into life.

Now in April, we are emerging slowly from lockdown here in the UK, but the birds are coming back for the summer in droves, the dawn chorus is ramping up, and the leaves are coming in.

This is spring.

What next

I’ve watched the geese gathering in flocks all winter, preparing to make their way to their breeding grounds far further north. It won't be long before they leave. The Great Crested Grebes are pairing up on the lochs and beginning to display in their elaborate mating rituals. The ospreys are back on their nest on the Loch of the Lowes, and we noticed sand martins flying low over the water, both returning from their winter in Sub-Saharan Africa. We've even had bats on some nights.

Could this actually be summer? It was recently 19°C in Aboyne, so it could easily be. Scottish summers are often wet and miserable, and some of the best weather comes in spring.

For now though - typically - the snow and hail is battering the windows, and the wind is howling through the trees in front of the house.

It feels like winter is back, but I know it won’t be long before I’m out foraging for elderflower and ice cream and other such summery delights.