I’d just finished leading a hike at the Butner Game Lands along Falls Lake. I had 5 miles under my belt, a good day in my book, and besides, I had a boatload of chores to do at home. But the sky was a cloudless blue, the temperature was on its way into the mid-70s, and I was 15 minutes from the only place in the piedmont where I was 99 percent sure I would find the thing that, for me, means spring has truly arrived.