Spring in Maine: My Favorite Season ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
First, the sap begins to swell. This "secret sign" is hinted by tiny increases in the size of tree buds, as the days get longer. The buds begin to get just a bit more red. The chickadees are back, saucy as ever, daring the cats, and winning every time. By mid-March, silvery pussy-willow buds show up, soft as kittens. `'`'`'
Now it's time to start the tomato seeds in the house. A nice roomy pot or flat in a south-facing window will do, with a piece of cling-plastic over it to keep it moist and warm. I hang my pot on a hook to keep the kitten out of it.
Then we get the first "real" thaw,- tinkling sounds of icy water running down seasonal pathways to the swelling brooks and rivers. Afternoons, the stiff dirt yields sweetly beneath my feet as I head out to the barn. Oh, ho! "Mud season" has begun. Time to plant the peas! A mound of soil and compost in a sunny, sheltered spot makes a nice bed for these babies.
Green ~?`?'?~`~`~!`!'!~ Sprouts
Every day now, more and more sprouts pop up... at first, question marks,- then little exclamation points. They say, "YES! WE MADE IT." Crocuses, tulips, and unknown little weedlings speak back to the spring sun in an ever-widening chorus.
In mid-April, a warm evening brings out the "peepers," treefrogs that are singing their love songs so long and loud that they carry a half a mile or more. It's a sweet high-pitched trill that lifts the heart.
Now, within a day or two, comes the first true leaves, a faint lime-green spray around the tops of the willows. I've tried to photograph it, i've tried to paint it, but i just can't capture the lump-in-the-throat beauty of those tiny sprigs of green leaping out from the gnarly, grey-black branches.
Rosemary, with blossoms. © a.voswinkel
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© Copyright 1999 by Silvia Wilson