wild geese

Sunny skies and temperatures in the fifties. As usual, I heard them before I saw them, wild geese, calling out to each other as they barreled homeward on brisk southern winds; the essence of wildness. Spring is the season of returning, as this blog now returns to an old favorite.

Wild Geese

by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

poor man's fertilizer

We had some more snow a few days ago, 5-6 inches. It doesn't last long this time of year. The old timers call it "poor man's fertilizer."

To learn to see, to learn to hear, you must do this--go into the wilderness alone
Don Jose Matsuwa
Zen page-a-day calendar 

bluebirds

The bluebirds have returned. Yesterday we saw them watching over the new house I put up for them recently. The old one had been infested with mice over the winter. Their arrival is kind of a mixed blessing. They are beautiful, and I love them, but I worry about them as they try to raise their families over the course of the summer. Yesterday they were guarding their new home from a half dozen goldfinches. They also have to contend with house wrens and sparrows which are particularly formidable. The sparrows will kill the bluebirds. We have been lucky the last few years as the sparrows have stayed away.
Bluebirds have come to the little house in the back for the last 10 years at least, probably more. They usually raise four babies at a time, and breed at least twice a year, sometimes three times. That amount to over 50 new bluebirds over that period of time. I feel good about that.

sugaring

Coming back from the store yesterday afternoon, and checked on the collection tank. The sap was running. Allyn and I brought some wood in last night. I already had my boots on so I headed down to Nathan Hewitt's sugarhouse for a look. Lights were on and steam was rising out of all the sugarhouses in the valley.

Nathan had a select board meeting earlier in the evening and was just firing up. His son was there as well as a couple of other helpers from the neighborhood.

Nathan said that when it starts to "sheet" on the stirring pan, then you know that it's about ready. They stick a float in a bucket of sap, and when the float rises to a certain level, then you are sure it's syrup. If you continue to boil, then the sugar concentration increases. You can make maple cream and maple sugar from this process.

Another onlooker, also named Jim, stopped by. We talked about the weather forecast and the birds. Someone had seen robins. I said I had seen bluebirds. Jim said they usually arrive in February. Someone had seen a red-winged blackbird. I said I had seen three. Nathan had seen some black ducks and mallards. Jim had seen some grouse in his yard.

This blog is about the ordinary; and about the miraculous. This entry contains a little bit of both as usual, but skews toward the miraculous as far as I'm concerned. If ever there was a food that qualifies as ambrosia, it is maple syrup. Ira, Vermont is a backwater in almost every way, but there are at least a half dozen small, family-run sugar houses within walking distance of where we live. I feel like a lucky guy here on the other side of the creek.

getting out

Was out digging one of my springtime ditches the other day and ran into Pete and his dog who were walking in the back. Had a brief, neighborly talk, mostly about astronomy. Walking on the crossroads, saw a couple of deer feeding in a field up near the top. Haven't seen that for awhile. Even saw a small band of turkeys tread gingerly out of the woods in the back and peck their way through a couple of the fields in the back. With warmer weather, we're all getting out a little bit more.

world

Cold, dark, and wet, but the birds are singing. Feels like the world is giving birth to itself.

Happy anniversary

March 21st, 2007
AM thermometer went past zero. Maybe for the last time this year? Snow mushy during the day, freezes at night. Little crystalline nuggets in the morning. John home from D.C. today. New moon with Venus above.

The above was the first entry into a journal I started 12 years ago today. That journal eventually evolved into the blog you are currently reading. The idea started during mud season with this notion of "seasons" and how conventional wisdom says that in Vermont there are five seasons as I mentioned the other day. I felt that there had to be more than five seasons and wanted to see how many I could find. It's changed my life.

Full moon, the "Worm" moon is tonight.