I Know It’s Spring in Michigan When Chicks Are Here
There are many signs that spring has arrived in Michigan: the snow begins to melt, crocuses push through the ground, and the sun finally starts to linger a little longer in the sky. But for many rural families and backyard farmers, one unmistakable sign of spring is the arrival of baby chicks. Their cheerful peeps, fluffy down, and boundless energy bring a sense of renewal and excitement that only this season can offer.
Every year, as March fades into April, feed stores and hatcheries across the state start filling with bins of tiny, fuzzy chicks. The sight of them huddled together under heat lamps is enough to make anyone smile. For those who raise chickens, either as a hobby or for fresh eggs and meat, this is one of the most anticipated times of year. It signals not only the start of the growing season but also the beginning of new routines and possibilities.
I know it’s spring in Michigan when I walk into the local feed store and hear the soft chorus of peeping before I even see the bins. There’s a kind of nostalgia wrapped up in that sound—a reminder of childhood visits to the store with my grandparents, who always let me pick out a few chicks to bring home. Even now, I feel that same childlike joy every time I select new additions for my flock.
Raising chicks is a spring tradition that connects us with nature and the rhythms of rural life. The process begins with setting up a brooder—a warm, safe space where the chicks can grow during their first few weeks. You need a heat lamp, fresh bedding, clean water, and a chick starter feed to get going. It’s a simple setup, but one that requires daily attention. Chicks are fragile, and the early days are crucial to their survival and long-term health.
There’s something therapeutic about caring for these tiny creatures. Watching them peck, scratch, and wobble around on unsteady legs reminds me how resilient life is. In just a few weeks, they transform from helpless fluffballs into sturdy young pullets, ready to join the rest of the flock. Their growth mirrors the changing landscape around us—from barren branches to budding trees, from frozen fields to green pastures.
In Michigan, where winters can be long and brutal, the presence of chicks is a hopeful sign. It’s the promise of sunnier days ahead, of mornings spent gathering eggs from the coop, and of warm evenings listening to the contented clucks of hens settling in for the night. For many, chickens are more than livestock; they’re companions, entertainers, and even part of the family.
Every spring, I marvel at the cycle beginning again. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve raised chicks—the excitement never fades. Each batch brings a new adventure and a renewed appreciation for the small wonders of life. I know it’s spring in Michigan when the brooder glows in the corner of the shed and the gentle peeping of chicks fills the air. That sound, to me, is the music of the season.
