Sexes of the Seasons

It was one of those charcoal drawing mornings where the sky and clouds are same grays as the water and the trees and bushes have just had stronger stokes to darken them. To set them apart. It is a shades of gray  scene as far as the eye can see.
There is still a chill in the air, and the sunless morning seems not to know the calendar date.
Yet, I could feel Spring starting to nudge her way in as Old Man Winter tires of his grip on us.
She is patient. Every day she unfolds another finger of the Old man's grip until he finally lets go to the inevitable. She will have her way.
All around the locals are testing their voices after a long winter of silence.
The Pileated stutters to his mate somewhere across the river, and the throng of Wooducks whine their pitiful whine.
I hear Tree Sparrows, White-throats and the occasional Fox sparrow somewhere in the dense brush and overhead the croak of Ravens.
It's nice to hear the forest in song. Even the sterile smell of winter is broken by faint odors I can't quite put my finger on.
Maybe it's the bubbles rising to the surface of the thawing vernal pools. The sweet smell of last years fallen leaves.
Or maybe it's the buds sending off nameless scents of new growth.
Or is it just my optimism tricking me...it doesn't matter I still enjoy it.
Up river I see the unmistakable wake of a creature heading my way.
It's as silent as the current as is swims closer and closer.
It's a Beaver. He swims a snaky pattern as he heads down stream never pausing but I can tell he's wary of my presence. I stand perfectly still, waiting with camera ready as he glides by. My camera shutter chatters like a annoyed wren and he flips his tail up and smacks the water in warning. He has a mate somewhere and he just alerted her to danger. I see her sneak behind the many fallen trees in the water and think I am not the one to be afraid of. The water craft folks will report you and that will be that. They will come for you as they have for the past two years. The lodge you worked so hard to build will again fall to disrepair.
I am so sorry.
I move on looking for other signs of Spring and it's not to long before I hear a Phoebe chipping up ahead.
Is it the name that makes me think they are all females? but to me they are which begs the question where do the little Phebs come from?
And then I think why is it the only season I think of as male is Winter?
Why are the other three ladies. Each very different but female persona's just the same.
These are the Sexes of the Seasons for me...and Winter is not my favorite.