There is stirring in the ground. Calley frantically sniffs a stone wall, digs a little, stops and listens; cocking her head from one side to another to get the best reception. She is determined to catch the small creature hiding there, just waking up from a long hibernation. She is a detective discovering all kinds of changes in the landscape that have occurred in the last few days.
Sap buckets are hooked on maple trees all over town. I pulled over to help Fan and Verena empty the clear sap into the large plastic containers in the back of Verena's truck. Tonight they will be boiling sap for hours in Richard's well equipped sugar house to reduce it down to pure maple syrup. When I hooked the bucket back on the tree I listened for the pinging sound as sap hit the empty pail. Funny that a small, somewhat suburban town like Lincoln can appear so authentic. The commercial sugaring operations in Vermont run tubing between the trees and the sap runs to one central holding place. This efficient system is left up all year, so maple woods are filled with this spider web of blue plastic. I love the old pail with it's metal top. A sign that days are warm and nights are cold.
Heading home, I saw that someone had put up the salamander sign on Conant Road. There are a few designated roads in Lincoln near wetlands across which salamanders migrate. On a night that noone can foresee, the salamanders decide to leave their cozy vernal pool and head into the woods, which are often on the other side of the road. Experts know it has something to do with warmth after a light rain. I have driven home at night and seem the beams of many flashlights on Conant Road belonging to the observers who are lucky enough to catch this yearly migration. Salamanders are small but they are an integral part of the web, participating in the mysterious natural order of things. I like living in a town where people create salamander crossings!
The days are longer, it's still light at 7pm thanks to the time change last weekend. The snow is almost gone. We can see the ground for the first time in months. The birds are busy and loud, the air smells different. Calley's feet are muddy and she won't get out of the car after a day's adventure. She wouldn't want to miss a thing. Eventually she drags herself in and collapses on her bed in the front hall and sighs. Perhaps grateful for a break from sensory overload.
3 comments:
I remember coming to visit once during high school when the spotted salamanders were crossing the road. Growing up, my mom and I would drive out to her work late in the night during the 1-2 nights the spotted salamanders were out, during the first warm rain of the season, to count them. Arriving in Lincoln that spring to discover that even in Massachusetts there were spotted salamanders, I was beside myself. What's more, they even had the dignity to close the road to create a safe passage. How progressive.
Lovely, Barb! These views of sap bucket, salamander crossings and quivering dog really give me hope that spring will be coming- while we still have at least 6" of snow in most places, not counting the drifts and plow mounds. Spotted salamanders migrating is the sure sign that the air is warming and the thaw is hitting the subsurface of the ground. What a thrill those not-so-little harbingers are! And I love that Callie just has it all in her marrow. Thanks for this tribute to these early signs! XXOO
PS. Love catching up on the burning of the burn pile... and of course the consciousness-raising plastic issue! We all need to be reminded!
Callie not wanting to get out of the car reminds me of Toby. He never wanted to be left behind- always wanted to be included. His favorite place was the car.
Post a Comment