Eric’s been journaling during our adjustment to these rapidly changing times, so I’ve created a page on The Way to the Clearing for him to post his thoughts.
(For Patti’s blog posts, visit the homepage or click here.)
Eric’s entry: March 19
There are few in the world today who don’t know how difficult these times are. “Difficult” is an understatement. Staggering. Sad. Isolated. Overwhelming. Mind-blowing. Dangerous. Suffocating. Uncertain. Life-changing.
Punctuated equilibrium.
In the news today, China is reported to have had its first day with no new domestic infections since the COVID-19 outbreak began there. As the number of cases in the rest of the world continues spiraling exponentially up, no-new-cases-in-China is a milestone worthy of faint celebration.
I’m not exactly sure (I could Google it, but it’s not germane) when the first infection occurred in Wuhan, but it was approximately the first day of winter, this winter of global discontent, December 21, 2019. The day after tomorrow is the first day of spring.
Winter to spring, spring to summer.
Here in Vermont just south of the Collins-Valentine line (45° north latitude), it is currently snowing, lightly. The pond in the front yard is frozen beneath the considerable accumulation of snow laid down through this punctuating winter; the raised beds in the garden are lifeless lumps, white and forlorn, as if long abandoned, forgotten. There’s a lot of snow everywhere that is going to take time, or some really warm temperatures, to melt. The first day of spring will pass here just like every other winter day, save one defining difference: the anticipation of spring and the astonishing rejuvenation it brings every year.
Rejuvenation portends a new equilibrium. As the land thaws here, life bursts forth with such voracity, vibrancy, and viridity, every minute is different. My passage through this year’s miraculous transformation that is spring in northern Vermont is the subject of this blog. As headlines endlessly knell a virus’ death grip on the world, the wonder of spring gives us hope, happiness, and a reason for being.
As the land thaws.
Yesterday I tapped six sugar maple trees along the driveway and listened for the drip, drip, drip of sap that will be this year’s supply of one of nature’s most divine bounties: pure maple syrup. This morning I ordered—via the United States Postal Service with no human contact—bare-root apple trees, blueberry bushes, and black raspberry canes for pickup on April 25 at the East Hill Tree Farm in Plainfield, Vermont. She who plants a tree…
Hope and anticipation.
Excellent post, Eric! Your word pictures bring hope as the first tentative steps towards better, warmer and happier days ahead. We all need to focus on positive signs that the bleak days of this winter will in time, melt away to reveal the renewal of spring.
Very nicely stated, Maureen. Thank you for your comment.