Still Snow

Last month I mentioned the many ways I enjoy Maple Syrup. I want to add another to the list. I've met an expert crepe maker. Who'd have guessed there were so many hidden talents hanging out at fish camp? I spent nine days ice fishing in Northern Ontario. The lakes were well frozen and there was little snow in the bush. It was seemingly perfect. What more could I ask for? Then I discovered one of my fishing partners makes the best crepes I've ever eaten. Now, crepes smothered with fresh pineapple and maple syrup has bubbled to the top of my Maple Syrup List.

I brought home from Canada another load of rocks. I can't bring back many onany one trip because I pretty much fill the Jeep with fishing equipment, clothes, food and dogs. But I always manage to bring a few and slowly I'm getting a nice rock border around the front flower garden. I’d take a picture of my rocks and show you how pretty this batch is but I had not yet unloaded them from the Jeep when our most recent snowstorm hit. Now there's no place to put them. They're still in the Jeep and as soon as we get bare ground I hope I’ll have them placed.

This snow has slowed me down. Usually the ever-changing weather and my environment prompt me to write. I love the forward movement from month to month. In December, snow piled high excited and encouraged me. In April, I'm not so enthused. On my walks, I can't believe I'm still slogging through knee-deep snow. I want to walk lightly and see a crocus.

But then, weather like this means anything can happen. And that's the kind of life I want to live; one where anything can happen.

Yikes!

My Backyard on April 8

Well, I thought it was Spring. But here we are in early April and I'm sitting in about 2 feet of snow in 48 hours. What's that all about!? I was just beginning to think about some Morel Mushroom hunting. Now it feels more like Christmas than Easter. Just April Fools a few days late, I guess.

The dogs and I are warm and somewhat happy. We're hunkering down. I've put a fire in the fireplace and I'm cooking some venison chili for dinner. Not my normal April activities and fare but, alas, when in Rome...

Sweet, Sweet March! It's Maple Syrup Time!

One of my favorite quick changes in a Northern Michigan March is the rise in temperatures during the days that launch the maple syrup season, when maple sap runs through the sugar bush to strategically placed sugar shacks. In the very old days, native people cut a hole in the Sugar Maple. They attached a wood shaving on the bottom of the hole in order to direct the maple sap towards a bark container. Later, sap dribbled into covered metal buckets or pails. Today, most sugar shacks are equipped with sophisticated plastic tubing. The maple sap follows the tubing from tree to tree and ultimately into a storage tank. At the sugar shack, the sap is boiled down until it becomes maple syrup.

Maple syrup is a true treasure because the maple sap can only be collected during the cold and brief six weeks from early March to mid-April. And, on average, a Sugar Maple will yield 40 gallons of maple sap each year, which boils down to only one gallon of maple syrup.

I'm looking forward to my annual spring binge; namely, maple syrup on my morning pancakes, waffles and French toast, maple syrup drizzled over cooking bacon and breakfast sausage, maple sticky buns, maple glazed carrots, maple butter, and the traditional March treat, hot, thick maple syrup drizzled over snow.

Quick Change

The very cool thing about March in the north is the incredibly quick change in the weather, wildlife and woods. One day it's blustery winter with freezing temperatures, snow and ice. And a few days later, the roads are bared by 50 degree temperatures. One day, I take my walk in silence, noting only the animal tracks upon the snow. A few days later the racket is deafening, as the forest comes alive with darting forms emerging from dens and trees and brush piles. One day the trees and bushes look dead, and only a few days later there are green buds emerging. One day the snow banks are piled high around my home, and only a few days later the driveway has turned into a real gully washer.

These days I look forward to dramatic and quick changes. To me, quick changes always mean things are going to crack wide open and get even better, fast! I no longer dread and avoid quick changes, even though they require that I catch up, sometimes adjusting who I believe I am and what I want, on a dime. The feeling is a bit like being swept into the next change, rather than taking charge and making it happen on my own timetable. I lose control. But what a relief that can be, when changes are spontaneous and things bigger than I can conceive of or would have planned happen.

Standing Out

Ah, February. I look out my window and see nothing but white. Or so it seems in this frozen month. But that's impossible I say and so I challenge myself to see the color. And ever so slowly, the whole host of browns that have been there all along emerges as I notice tree trunks. Then, immediately, my eyes are drawn to the pines and firs and I notice the green that has also always been there. Nothing has changed except my perception of February and the way I choose to notice. The birds of my yard this time of year are mostly chickadees. But with my new eyes, their black caps stand out. Not quite color, but certainly a contrast to all the white. And oh, yes, down by the creek, still hanging on to their branches, are some dried, but red, Michigan Holly berries. And for at least today, the sky is bright blue.

I'm inspired. The vibrant colors of spring and summer remain buried deep. But all is not lost in this month of February. So I go to my closet and don the most colorful winter clothing I own. Teal green long underwear, a bright red turtleneck, my yellow sweater, and my yellow and purple knit hat and matching scarf immediately create in me joy and delight. And look, there are my yellow sunglasses!

I'm off on my daily walk, today in search of more color. Perhaps I'll see a Pileated or Red-Headed Woodpecker, a Downy or Hairy Woodpecker. And should I find nothing more colorful than my February attire, perhaps then it's my lighthearted obligation today to bring to the world around me the color I seek. After all, unlike my ancient ancestors, I am no longer the prey of things bigger, wild and ferocious. I can afford to stand out.

"It amazes me how over the years we are repeatedly aware of the need to be reminded, or to come again with fresh, or new or developed eyes to the sense of 'Who am I?', and 'What do I stand for?', 'What matters?', 'What is the gift that I bring to bear on what matters?'" ~Liana Taylor www.lifeintelligence.com.au