Spring is coming late to The North Country. I’m still waiting to take pictures of the shad bushes that, for about one week every year, break out in white blossoms. They seem to love to grow in rocky outcroppings and got their name for their coincidental appearance when the shad fish run. But this year the blossoms are late. Facebook tells me this since memory posts of the shad bushes from previous years have been appearing for weeks.
It’s been gray and rainy for the last few days. I haven’t accomplished much and this bothers me. Granted, I’ve been getting over a cold but I still feel guilty. But this morning was a new beginning, the sun was out, it wasn’t raining, and my cough was almost gone. My friend, Beth J., asks me every year to post pictures on Facebook of the spring trilliums that grow in my woods. Today was the day I would keep that promise and hike to the pond at the far end of my property to see if those lovely flowers were in bloom.
My woods was bear and sad looking. Old discarded leaves defeated by rain and snow had lost the crunching sound they had had in the fall.
I walked and walking taking note of the branches that had broken off in wind storms. It seemed winter was unwilling to let go. I followed the path across a field, through a stand of birches and, using familiar landmarks, found the trilium garden my woods always seems to gift to me each year.
Sheltered in a little rock crevice was the prized red trillium. Beth would be happy, it was particularly lovely this year.
I found the white trilliums. They seemed to be late.
But I found two flowers I had never noticed before, maybe because they only wished to show themselves after a hard winter or maybe they are the real early bloomers.
These little guys were hearty . They seemed to declare, “Back off, lady, we know what we are doing” They wanted me to know something. The last few days I had cursed the weather and wanted things on my terms, I wanted spring now. But nature doesn’t work that way. I once read a story in a book called The Zen of Gardening about a lady who planted a lilac bush where she wanted it without considering what was best for the plant. Of course, it died. David Thoreau once said, “Let us live life as deliberately as nature.” Everything in the natural world is where it is because it’s in the best place at the best time to live and grow. I need to realize that. And if we want to keep life going on this planet we better all respect that.
I went to the pond and was glad to see it filled again by all the rain we had gotten. But the beaver lodge was gone and I suspect the beavers had found better real estate in the new pond across the road from my house on my neighbor’s land.
I leaned on one of the rocks and in silence I enjoyed the beauty and peace of the moment. I was thrilled to be joined by a Canadian goose who drifted in the water in front of me.
I thought how some of my friends would laugh at my excitement in seeing such a common creature. Would it take a swan to give them as much joy? Maybe it’s true what they say, that its not the object but rather the attitude of the beholder that makes something beautiful.
I snapped pictures and at one point the goose spread out his wings. I missed the shot and tried everything to make him do it again. I whistled and tried to mimic his honk and even sang him the only goose song I knew, “Go Tell Aunt Rhody The Old Grey Goose is Dead”. I learned that song in the 1950’s in grade school. Between that kind of message and all the times we practiced hiding under our desks in case of nuclear attack, it’s no wonder I’m sometimes a little controlling!
Well, needless to say, none of it worked. And once again, nature was telling me to “Back off, Lady”. The goose was in control, not me.
I walked home satisfied with the pictures I had and the lesson I had learned.
Spring comes when it’s ready, nature’s time, not mine. I can accept that now. It will soon be here in all its glory and it will be magnificent!
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