RITES OF SPRING

Hepatica

PATRIOTS DAY

Patriots’ Day in Boston, when the weather cooperated, was a day to check out the garden, clear some of the debris of winter, maybe put in a few hardy plants.  Unless this was one of those Patriots’ Days when I would get out of bed at five o’clock to see the reenactment on the Lexington Battle Green, the shaggy Minute Men facing the red-coated British regulars.  After seeing the morning reenactment, it was nearly impossible––too tired!––to consider going to watch the Boston Marathon, so we usually ended up watching it live on television.  Just about everyone I knew watched it on TV or saw it live whether they cared about running or not.  Of course I was there the year Lesley officially ran it in 1997 with the Dana Farber team, the same year Ken walked the whole 26 miles (afterward taking a taxi home to make dinner for all of us).

Unforgettably marred, this rite of spring, by the bombings near the Marathon finish line.  It will not be easy to watch another race without remembering this one––the one that never finished on a beautiful day in spring, the day evil exploded.  From the descriptions of the bombs it was clear the bomber wanted to hurt and maim people, and spoil something that was lighthearted and fun.  It wasn’t the usual stereotypical target an international group seems to like, but a target created out of anger and bitterness and hatred, and by someone who took the trouble to learn––or knew well­––the rhythm of the Marathon. 

Enough.

SPRING REVELATIONS

The Adirondack "alps" from Buck Mountain

There are some things you can see this time of year that you won’t see anymore once spring is in full bloom.  The grass will slowly cover over the trails that were made under the snow in winter by moles or mice.  The Adirondacks will look less like alps when their snow has melted.  Hepatica,* the first flower we’ve spotted blooming in the forest, will be succeeded by other, bolder blossoms.  At first we saw only a few clumps of flowers, but once we began looking beyond just the trail we could see it everywhere in the forest.  

Hepatica comes in white, 

as well as purple (and pink, top photo)

Mole trails in the grass

Mole trail, showing the mole hole

During the winter some critter excavated underneath the concrete patio

Our pond, clear now, has been visited by breeding pears of ducks (Mallards and Mergansers) and geese (migrating Canadian) all of whom, after checking us out,  will doubtless settle on larger bodies of water for their spring and summer homes.  We've had no long term residents.  

Hooded Merganser who visited with his less colorful mate (out of the frame)

I don’t know much about deer behavior in the spring; we spotted them in the late afternoon or early evening in the field not far from the house for several days in a row, but on the last day visiting dogs Sadie and Scamper darted out after them and chased them back into the woods.  We haven’t seen any deer since. 

Three of the deer group in our field, just days before the grass began to green

Just a few short weeks ago we had had our final cross country ski.  It had a finality in actual fact:  the path we ski on from behind our house in the morning to where it joined a ski mobile trail to route 17 melted before our eyes.   By afternoon we would have had to take our skis off and walk back.

Ken (right) with Allan Ames (left) on our last ski

Buck Mountain, behind our house, was our first (modest) climb of the season.  It was from this point that we looked over to the mountains in the photo at top, and it was here we spotted the hepatica.

A still pond halfway up Buck Mountain, in wait for greening

Ken en route up Buck Mountain

*Hepatica, known also by less attractive names––liverwort, kidneywort, pennywort––is a member of the buttercup family.