Yesterday, on twilight's descent to dark--a chord of woodcocks spiraled upward through descending night. Venus winked--called the stars out one by one. The wall-eyed birds fell back to earth "peenting" and twittering all the way down.
- from "On Timberdoodle Time" by J. Drew Lanham
|
|
Over the last few weeks, as I've seen photos online of my more southerly friends' surroundings--pink and green and burgeoning with cherry blossoms and magnolia flowers, crocuses and daffodils, green shoots and colorful blooms--I've managed to appreciate the beauty without a tinge of jealousy. After more than a quarter-century in Maine, I finally accept the slow creep of spring, its hesitant forward-back-forward-forward-back-back-back dance with winter. I note each tiny step forward as it appears on the land.
We have, officially, our first flowers blooming: speckled alder catkins. The woodcocks have been doing their sky dance all month. Geese fly over every day; red-winged blackbirds have put in an appearance; and I've even heard a stray spring peeper here and there. It's not the boisterous, Hello, World! spring show that's being put on in other climes, but the glacial pace of the wakening world here allows for a quiet buildup of anticipation and the increased pleasure that comes with the delayed gratification.
As a singularly impatient person, it's taken me a long time to learn to appreciate the season's slow advance. I know that without careful attention to the songs of birds and the swellings of buds, the period between February and May can feel like one long slog through the mud (which it often literally is). So if you're feeling the March Malaise, go outside and tune in to the spring songs of chickadees and titmice (they've been warbling their optimistic hearts out for more than a month here at my house). Take a close look at the tips of twigs to see which trees are getting ready to burst forth into bloom and leaf. In between snowstorms and rainstorms and windstorms, stand outside and let the stronger, more direct rays of of sunlight warm your face, and your soul. Welcome spring!
|
|
|
Writing
I have a few projects in the works, including an essay collection around the theme of joy and everyday encounters with nature. Here's an excerpt from a piece I'm working on for that collection about the Northern Cardinal:
"Puffed up against the cold, he looks like a tomato with a long tail and peaked cap. He's an impossible shade of scarlet, the color of fire trucks and sports cars and the crayon labeled merely 'red.' The only parts of him that aren't brilliant, shocking red are his charcoal-dusted wings and the black mask that surrounds his bright black eyes."
|
|
|
Reading
Fiction: I've been reading a lot of murder mysteries (#plans) from used book stores and hand-me downs. Some are better than others. In this pile, my fave was Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor (Jane Austen as amateur sleuth!).
Nonfiction: I reread Austin Kleon's Steal Like an Artist, for inspiration, and my friend Penny Guisinger's memoir Shift about discovering her sexuality was not what she'd believed and the rocky path of assuming her new identity in the midst of cultural and political shifts. It's a lovely, thoughtful, and thought-provoking story.
|
|
|
|
Teaching
I'll be offering three nature writing workshops at Hidden Valley Nature Center in Jefferson, ME, in the coming months. Here's the description of the first workshop, to be held July 20, 2024, 10 am -12 pm:
Standing Among the Trees
In A Poetry Handbook, Mary Oliver writes "If the poem is thin, it is likely not because the poet does not know enough words, but because he or she has not stood long enough among the flowers--has not seen them in any fresh, exciting, and valid way." In this workshop, we'll go into HVNC and stand among the trees, practicing using all of our senses to observe. We'll each choose one particular tree and ask questions that will help nurture our curiosity and deepen our relationship with that tree. From these observations and questions, we'll write poems or prose to celebrate our trees.
The cost is only $5. Go here to sign up, and keep an eye on my website for announcements of future courses.
|
|
|
Services
I provide freelance writing and editing services of all types, with a special emphasis on reports, newsletters, and articles and expertise in nature, science, and the environment. Check out my website to learn more.
|
|
Or visit your local bookstore and ask them to order a copy for you
and a few to put on the shelves for other customers.
|
|
|
|
Happy spring, friends!
~ Andrea
|
|
|
|
|
