The Renewal of Spring Relations

 

Although the days have been getting visibly longer, it has stayed cold where I live and there is still a few feet of snow on the ground. This is the “cabin fever” time of year where I live.  I start craving the colour green while outside everything is black, brown, and white with the occasional blue sky.  Seeing people (even on zoom) who are wearing green clothing lifts my spirits.  I can feel energy building inside of myself and I am ready to be outside for longer periods and getting my hands into the soil.  I long to smell the earth warming up.  I couldn’t even describe this smell, but when I do smell it, my heart races.

We have been watching the weather closely, waiting for the temperature to be above freezing in the day and below freezing in the night.  This is the time to tap the Sugar Maple trees that grow between us and our neighbours down the hill.  This week it has been around -12 degrees Celsius but today it made it up to zero.  And for the following day, a ridiculous plus 14 degrees was predicted.  So, this was the day to tap the four Maple trees.

We called our neighbours who have two small boys to come and take part in this spring ritual.  They clambered up the snowy hill to our yard at the top and we chatted for awhile since we’ve all been indoors and socially distanced way too much.  Then my partner showed the little boys how to drill the hole through the bark of each tree and they took turns putting in the spiles and tapping them into place with the little hammer that the older boy used with enthusiasm.  The boys took turns hanging the buckets and putting on the lids.

It was all very simple and yet magical at the same time.  Two families gathering around the large Sugar Maples to renew our relationships with these relations.  The young mom climbed into one of the trees and watched from above while the boys slid down the hill and clambered back up again.  Simple, late winter rituals that give us the strength to continue through a few more snowfalls.

The following day was, as predicted warm, sunny and windy.  We went for a long walk along the trail that goes into a nearby town.  As we passed the dried brown cattails from last summer, we heard the bright trill of a Red-winged Blackbird.  We walked down to the ice to get closer and turned our heads listening intently.  There it was again… and again.  Our heart thrilled to that trill.  The birds know that it is time to return.  The males come back first, set up housekeeping and start to call.  Spring is emerging.

With a smile on my sun warmed face, I continued along the trail.  Every now and then a warm gust of wind would caress my smiling face. After the icy blasts of February, this gentle gift goes straight to the heart.  Once of those wintery blasts had knocked down a large Poplar tree onto the trail.  I rubbed one of its leaf buds back and forth in my fingers and then held the sticky resin up to my nose.  I inhaled the strong familiar scent into my lungs.  Yes, it was a Balsam Poplar and its resin was one of my favourite spring smells.  And I was smiling again.

Each new sensation brought me into the moment.  Chickadees called out from the trees along the trail and at one point, we saw two Pileated Woodpeckers moving up the trunk of a large tree.  Crows called from somewhere farther away.  Hope was renewed.

Once we got home, I went to check the sap buckets and was delighted to find that the trees were dripping.  We brought some of the sap inside to drink as a spring tonic.  The taste of that sweetwater transported me to all the springs that have come before on this circle of the season.  In a few days, if the sap runs, we can begin the boiling down process to make syrup.  We have invited our neighbours to come and see the ritual, the magic of evaporating water to get the first spring offerings from the trees.

Two days ago, we were driving down a back road from the forest that we walk in.  Ahead of us were two trucks parked in the opposite lane, nose to nose.  Two older men were standing on the road chatting.  “Oh,” I said. “The robin we saw last week was the first sign of spring and this is the second.  You know it’s spring when two old men are standing at the side of the road chatting!”