March

In northern New England, March and early April are shapeshifters. One day they lure us with the promise of warm sunshine and the next day clobber us with icy wind, cold rain and sleet. Despite that, we sustain our na?ve optimism that the true spring, with the emergence of abundant new life, is just around the corner. The truth is though, that we cannot gaze upon that Eostre’s grail, until we make the hero’s journey. We must face winter’s final barrier, passing through the dark underworld of mud season.

It is tempting to want to avoid the reality of mud season. We may wish for a deep slumber, so that we can awaken with the flowers in late April. ?Or, if the weather permits, we can distract ourselves by tapping maple trees and intoxicate ourselves with the sweet scent of boiling sap. The fact is that right now, here in central Maine, mud season is in full swing in the first week of March, almost a month early in this part of the state. We can probably thank the confluence of climate change and El Nino for that.

So, will we now have an early spring, or a prolonged mud season? That remains to be seen. Either way, that needn’t deter us from getting out and fully appreciating our natural surroundings as this seasonal transition continues to unfold. With a pair of Grundens, or Bean boots, and a rain jacket in our pack, we are ready to go out and wander amongst our wild relations. The late winter woods are not desolate, they are gestating the season that lies ahead, harboring all its marvelous possibilities.

And while we have our boots on, we might take the opportunity to celebrate our passage through this liminal space between winter and spring, by abandoning our self-conscious normalcy, and splashing wildly in some puddles and dancing in the rain, confident that while it may not seem that way, the unceasing natural cycles will soon bring us to glorious unfolding of nature's renewal.