The birds are singing, the tulips are opening their cups of color, dandelions are gracing the green green grass with their brilliant golden yellow. Life begins once again in the Northeast Kingdom. After a winter that hangs on in slow motion, this aliveness moves at warp speed. Daffodils bloom and expire in a blink, the tulips awoke to quickly drop their petals before I fully appreciated them. Now the poppies are getting ready to explode their red and orange papery beauty. You have to drink deep each day, ignoring the black fly bites, ouch and the left over potholes and washboards that the frost created on the roads. The village garage has been busy, removing winter tires and replacing them with summer ones. Replacing struts and shocks and bearings. Rust spots are noted and a plan takes shape to get them seen to. Wood deliveries are dropped up and down the village street as everyone cleans up what remains of the last winter’s piles and begins the new stacks for the winter to come. Folks check in as to how many cords they went through this past winter, adjusting their orders for the coming year. Often the plan is two years out so that the wood has time to season. After the delivery, if you don’t cut your own wood, there is still the ring of axes as pieces need further splitting to be stove ready. You need physical strength to run a household here.
Mowers can be heard around the village and that sweet smell of cut grass fills the air. Another chore is getting the snowblowers and shovels put away, sharpening the mower blades for the coming season. We live in a moist area where the rain acts as speed for the grass, so mowing is a weekly event. Ladders come out as storm windows come down and screens go up. Paint scraping and applying new paint are a summer chore that never ends on the clapboard siding. Compared to our lives in California, the seasonal chores are heavy. The intensity of the weather means that structures wear quickly in the elements and Mother Nature reclaims buildings if your back is turned.
Why do we live here? A question I ask myself but here we are. It started with my youngest son’s wife growing up in this area. Her dad was diagnosed with dementia which prompted a move from Colorado back to Vermont. His health was precarious for years which kept them from leaving for the West coast. By then, children were born and family life takes over. My eldest son met a woman here at his brother’s wedding so he moved to be with her. My daughter moved from her former husband’s home in Montreal when she divorced but the pandemic brought her back to this area so her son would have a relationship with his dad. My former husband and I came also as she could not make the move on her own. So….here we are.
It means that on Mother’s Day, I had all three of my adult kids and the four grandchildren around me. As long as we are all close, we continue to dream of sharing a more temperate climate and a community land holding. We are dreaming it into being. Our joy and love fuels it.
Today I am off to a tai chi class, and perhaps the first swim of the season. Tomorrow there is a free all day printmaking class that I am excited about. The community here is rich with events…last night we went to the weekly free dinner at Sterling College, the environmental college here in town. The students raise the meat and veggies that are offered. There is another community dinner offered by one of the churches, tonight. So much to participate in and enjoy. I am off to bask in this day’s sunshine!