I stepped out onto my back deck the other day, and what fell upon my ears...The chorusing of frogs in the neighbor's pond. Frogs!

Most people look for budding leaves, the return of migratory birds, Easter flowers, or other such stuff to tell them that spring is approaching. I, on the other hand, have February 22 circled on my calendar.

February 22 is a very good day. Certainly better tahn groundhog day, because that dogged old groundhog sees his shadow every year and always gleefully informs us that we are cursed with six more weeks of misery.

Sometimes, I would like to see that groundhog put into one of Granny's pies for Jed, Jethro, and Ellie May to enjoy. I think that Bill Murray feels the same way.

But I always manage to control my anger, because I know that just a couple of weeks after that old goat of a dirt-burrowin badger spoils our day in the sun by letting us know that we have six weeks of winter left, my ol' buddy the frog will sound off to let us know that the groundhog, as usual, was wrong.

Don't get me wrong, I like winter just fine. The snow and snow cream and the snowmen and snow ball fights and the cold and frostbite and the flu and pneumonia and all of the other good stuff that we have to look forward to in winter.

But after three months of moping around the house with a severe case of the post-whitetail blues, I'm ready to get out and do something. Granted, I should be studying for mid-term exams, but I'd rather mope. It's just more fun.

Spring means bass fishing and turkey hunting. Spring means a rebirth of nature. Spring means F-U-N! Spring means allergies too, of course, but I can handle a stuffy nose better than being bed-laid by the flu.

More than that, spring means summer is just around the corner. Summer means no classes, no mid-terms, no finals, no studying...Just heat! I like heat. I'm abnormal, I know, but I figure that the more I sweat, the better. Sunstroke bears no meaning with me.

Summer means lying on a riverbank at night with a campfire, a Coleman lantern, and mosquitoes...At this point, a mosquito would be a welcome sight.

Spring...Just talking about it gives me turkey fever. The box calls, the diaphragms, the owl calls, the camouflage, the decoys, the smell of the air, the birds...Wow! At least I haven't started gobbling yet; That won't come for another couple of weeks.

Last year, I was watching TNN Outdoors when a fellow began to demonstrate a new turkey call he was marketing. Before I realized what I was doing, I was strutting back and forth in front of the television, pausing to let out an occasional gobble...And that is nothing compared to deer season, when I'll start rubbing my head on trees and acting aggressively towards any male that comes onto my "domain."