Listening Post: The first week

In this neck of the woods, the Spring Equinox is just there to get your hopes up that winter may someday be over. But the first week of spring?–that’s the first week of May. On May Day, the leaves are just a yellow-green haze beginning to soften the harsh outline of bare limbs, stretching back into the distance. By the end of the week, the border of the woods is a fully opaque verdant green.

Archive Artwork of the Day from last May: “Trillium,” acryic on canvas. Artist: Marion Bradish. facebook.com/riverflowstudio

On May Day, there is a daffodil or two in the yard, scattered hyacinth and snowdrop. By the end of the week, the shaded riverbank is thick with trillium–white, purple and lavender. On May Day–no lilac blooms. Today the air that comes in  the kitchen window is thick with their perfume. On May Day, the rhododendron had hard green buds. Today–full bloom. The apple trees on May Day–barely budded. Today–festooned with white and pink petals.

The slightly icy reek of thawing soil has given way to the funk of busy worms. Turtles galumph along the road shoulder and bask on logs in shallow water. The herons are back in their rookery and are stilting along on the sandbar, hunting fish. And sun–sun that finally does more than promise warmth to come.

The season wants nothing but a full day of drenching rain punctuated with a thunderstorm or two, to kick the whole shebang up into its highest gear. I love it when world goes nuts, when it just can’t contain all that energy. Deer leaping, colts rolling in the grass, the daily yammer of birds at dawn. It’s been a long time coming.

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