We recently had a nor’easter pummel us with over 3 feet of snow in less than 24 hours. Of course we lost power (again) and twisted our joints into unnatural shapes shoveling. Good times. However, the storm even at its height didn’t stop the intrepid chickadees, titmice and juncos from being out and about seeing what was available. I threw seeds out several times only to watch it buried under an inch an hour snowfall. Still, they left their petite tracks in the heavy snow- a story in embroidery of perseverance.
Today marks the first day of the vernal equinox, and while you wouldn’t know to look outside, the light has changed and there is a thrill beneath the snow, a stirring. It’s tiny but palpable and I for one am very glad for it. It has been a rough winter for us. Even the tracking this year was tough – only recently have we had the kind of snow cover that can capture the secret, unwitnessed events that occur in the wild. Now there are all kinds of signs that spring is upon us- from chipmunks emerging to the estrus marks of coyotes, lighter, more involved birdsongs and booming ice surrendering to intensifying sunlight.
For those of us who mark the equinox it is a time of awakening and rebirth- another winter behind us (another winter older), another spring to prepare our lives for what we hope will be a fertile season. Winter is fertile in its own right, gestational, while spring is the result of that gestation. The blank canvas makes ready for color, scent and touch once more.
Here at home the storm left a trail of destruction – I lost many of my beloved lilacs, my prized Japanese Maple and Redbuds. Many old, grand pines. Things I have spent 20 years cultivating. The damage to our property is extensive and cleaning it up will likely take the whole spring. But out of this chaos comes new design ideas, new patterns. Such is true of my life too, my inner landscape had long felt like my backyard looks – destroyed, chaotic, the loss of things long held dear. Out of that has emerged new designs, a shift in purpose and function, cleaning up the old to make room for the new.
I have big plans for this year as I dive deeper into my creativity with new projects. I hope to take some work around to fairs and reach out to more organizations I could create for and donate to through Cu Ruadh. Two years have passed since we lost Casey, came up with the vision of how to honor her memory and began to organize that idea – now a formal, much more public launch of Cu Ruadh is on track for this spring. There are works that are available and works in progress that I hope will bring happiness and magic to someone, as well as provide support for those who are out there every day caring for our wild brethren. That mission hasn’t changed, and the spirit guiding Cu Ruadh hasn’t changed. The pregnancy of the concept is just about over, the birth of something wonderful and meaningful is imminent. It is my honor and passion to nurture what is to be born and watch it grow strong.
“Daffodils, that come before the swallow dares, and take the winds of March with beauty.” – William Shakespeare