2010-The reservoir has grown patches of open water in the thin khaki-green ice of the western end. With temperatures in the 60’s through the weekend I expect the ice will not last long. I am anxious to hear peepers and go through last year’s flower journal, regular journal, the views of High Point Mt. journal but find no mention of their first appearance.
I have been having many bad dreams, one again last night that I can not even remember.
It is warm enough to put the seedling trays out in the sun and I am preparing the cold frame for when I go away at the end of next week. There was no maple sap for three days so I cleaned up and put the equipment away.
Yesterday (the 17th), the sun rose and set at 7:04, the perfect 12 hour day. Why was that not the equinox?
I wrote about ice music some pages ago-what a sound at the reservoir yesterday! The edges of the ice were broken into tiny crystals that rubbed up against each other made a sound that was a combination of susurration (the only word for it and perfect though I have to look it up) and a million tiny tinklings. And the color green of the ice, almost olive in its rottenness and darkened even more by the brown of the muddy water underneath.
After a few days of unseasonable warm and sunny weather, the crocuses are up, the daffodils are ready to open, and the forsythia are showing yellow points. The poplar across the meadow has burst out all in catkins that look from here like a froth of pale blossoms. Definitely feels like spring now, but…
I have planted some of the seedlings out into the cold frame; mesclun, bok choy, chard and kale. This way I can get them acclimated before I go away on Friday. I hope the weather, which has turned cool again, stays that way and I can keep them covered up until I get back.
The ice at the reservoir, except for loose bits at the very edges, is completely gone. The eagles seem to still be sitting the eggs, so they could not have been laid as early as I’d thought.
2011- As of yesterday (17th), the reservoir is still largely frozen. There is one track of open water that continues around the shore and dike line but it looks like it was opened by some kind of ice breaker. No musical green ice this year but brown and grey floating chunks. Everything was stirring, the chipmunks, the robins, the seagulls, the wooly bears…The constant sound of geese this morning passing overhead. The daffodils on the south of the house look ready to open but the forsythias are still tightly closed. Snow drops and wood anemones spotted in the usual places and I cut pussy willows two days ago to put in the blue jug. The snow has melted and the forecast is for well up in the sixties today.
A special full moon. Just in between Friday and Saturday, a day before the vernal equinox (20th). It rose due east and appeared larger than usual because it was in fact closer than it will be for five plus more years. All this combined to make the highest possible tides though I was not in a position to see that.
Tsunami devastation in Japan:
This nuclear spring
It seems the cherry blossoms
Will pass unnoticed.
2012- Back from two days in NJ- heard the first peepers here last night. Record high temperatures (near eighty) expected to continue into this week.
Thin slugs wait for rain.
The daffodils' smiles seems forced
In this hot, dry spring.
2013-Eight inches of snow and no robins in sight, though the reservoir is clear of ice.
During yoga, falling over in the balance poses, I remember the idea, from the seventies, of biorhythms. Now considered pseudoscience, it still makes a lot of sense to me. The scientific study of these rhythms, chronobiology, does recognize all kinds of cycles and inner clocks and I feel myself part of outer cycles as well. Probably none is stronger than the pull of lengthening day where, just like the crocus buds underground I am pulled out of myself into the light.
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