To go with the global mood right now, it’s been dreary and wet. Rain, snow, snow, rain, more rain, more snow, except for April 1st when I got to work out in the yard some. In fact, another rite of spring-is-almost-here, accomplished the day before yesterday, is raking up the “deposits” on the area of lawn that I keep shoveled all winter for the poodles to do their business, fondly referred to here as the “pissarium.” As much “material” as I raked up, that’s a very inaccurate descriptor.
Sap flow has slowed way down. Little tiny Vermont is the largest producer of maple syrup in the US, and it’s not because there are more sugar maples here. It’s because it takes so long for spring to arrive. Although weather.gov predicts above freezing temperatures for the next five days, it goes below freezing next Wednesday night. I’m pretty well convinced that sap flow is also affected by sunshine. The warming of the trunk of the tree by the sun’s rays—solar gain just like the panels—increases the sap pressure more than the ambient temperature alone.
It hasn’t been sunny and there hasn’t been much sap, despite being over 40°F during the day.
The clearing of the mini apple orchard continues. Each downed tree is a day’s work, removing branches to the brush pile (New Year’s Eve 2020 bonfire, won’t that be nice) and bucking the logs to a manageable size (meaning I can lift and move them).
I will cut the logs to woodstove length this summer. The sun’s rays in the summer are so powerful and intense the house batteries are typically full by mid morning. With 100% charge on the batteries, I use an electric chainsaw and log-splitter to make firewood. Although somewhat delusional on my part, I think of it as free energy. But, the chainsaw and log-splitter start every time, are many decibels quieter, and produce no exhaust. I wouldn’t say the whole process is a picnic, but it borderlines on the enjoyable. When Patti helps me, we can carry on a conversation as we work. As the old saw goes, she who heats with wood is warmed three times: harvesting, splitting/stacking, and igniting.
As the snow continues to recede, the land, still and patient, stoically waits for spring.
It’s coming, ever so slowly.