Eric’s diary: March 30

I thought I saw a flash of light when lying in bed last evening, but it was so fleeting, it didn’t register. When Patti came in several moments later, there was a rumbling neither of us could pinpoint. I got up, went outside and shined the flashlight around. Nothing. 

Back in bed, I thought I saw another flash. Finally, I made the connection: lightning and thunder. Patti checked WeatherBug and there was already a Lightning Strike Warning, “Take cover now!” The storm rolled through with lots of rain and a few more light-up-the-sky pulses. Jimmie hates thunder. He hid under the blankets as he always does during thunderstorms, which usually occur here in the summer.

Boiling sap is pretty much continuous now. There is a sense the land is primed to burst forth, but still it waits. It’s as if all the producers—the photosynthesizers—know this is the time of year when Mother Nature can play the meanest of tricks, putting on a deep freeze after everything has budded out. Even though they are as anxious as we are for spring, they wait patiently, agelessly; they’ve been duped before.

Yesterday, I ordered potatoes, onions and shallots from the Maine Potato Lady (https://www.mainepotatolady.com/productcart/pc/home.asp) and seeds from High Mowing Organic Seeds (https://www.highmowingseeds.com). I was late with my order as numerous items were sold out. It also occurred to me, though, there are likely a lot of folks out there that are going to grow, grow, grow this summer. One of my favorite, go-to factoids proving the resourcefulness and resilience of Americans is this: During World War II, 40% of all fruits and vegetables consumed in the US came from people’s backyards. Summer 2020 may be a return to such self-sufficiency, necessary and, at the same time, inspiring!

I have a theory about what makes people happy. Happiness comes with fulfillment; in order to feel fulfilled, people need something in their lives to watch grow: bank accounts, books, papers, children and family, experience, apple trees and gardens!

In the garden, we planted a variety of sunflowers last year. There’s something about sunflowers, strong and uplifting in their vertical prowess, and just plain fun to look at. But they are also amazing in the feast the seeds provide birds in the fall as they fatten up in anticipation of winter, whether staying north or migrating south. In sunflowers, especially, birds know thanksgiving, too.

I started lopping the sunflower stocks into pieces for the compost pile. It was a joy to see every seedpod picked clean. Happy, content birds. I suspect they’ll be back in the fall, so I’ll have to plant more.

If only spring would arrive…