Vermont on my mind

I've been intending to sit and write of Vermont for several days now, more than a week really, and life got in the way. New York got in the way. I made a quick, less-than-24-hour trip up to Vermont a week ago Monday, a needful thing, to be near Richard and to be in our "home in the woods." The forecast was drippy rain, but the rain did hold off for moments, long enough for a quiet trek down our dirt road, a quiet stroll by myself, letting the trees know I hadn't forgotten about them. The snow was completely gone, of course, and the grass was a dull, dirty yellow. There were plenty of beer cans strewn around the sides of the road along with other trash, including a white lab bag filled with used rubber gloves and syringes. Lovely. Harumph. But even that didn't dampen my delight at being back in the hood. Deep breaths, easy thoughts, a slowed pace. The road wasn't as rutted as I had expected; the town had kept up with filling any dips and crevices pretty well. Our town taxes at work.

Back at our place the snow's thaw has revealed 3 of our young trees girdled by rodents during the winter, 2 sugar maples and 1 ash. Richard and I felt like kicking ourselves because we'd been warned and urged to put a guard around the trees to prevent such an occurence. Ah, well. We've decided to make the most of this "opportunity" and take them out as soon as possible and replacing them with another evergreen and some flowering ornamentals.

The pond is almost completely thawed and another pair of Canada geese have nested there. They dive bombed Schmul and our girls when they went over to nibble along the bank. I want the Canada geese out because I'd rather our brood had run of the pond, but Richard is undecided about a plan of action. He wants nature to take its own course. In this case, though, we know what's going to happen. If the Canadians are allowed to stay, they will not let our girls and gander near the pond. More will be revealed. Goose egg production continues to be popping. Richard sneaks little peeks of the girls straining to lamaze their eggs out with deep, panting breaths. He's tempted to let them go broody because they seem to be acting up quite a bit, scolding him whenever he's near. Schmul's gone to leaping up to bite him. It seems like a world away. And it is.

A couple years ago a friend of mine connected me with a site called "This Date from Henry David Thoreau's Journal" and I've gone back to reading it of a morning to connect me with Vermont. Today's entry was from 1857 and speaks of a walk in the woods and a neighbor's dog smelling his scent and come to visit and accompany him. Sigh, sound of yearning.

But you know, I'm going to get 2 doses of Spring. New York has been in glorious blossom for a week or so. Central Park is spectacular! And the leaves on the trees are unfurling and freshly newborn. Everything is new. It's invigorating. Vermont's a month to 2 weeks behind, so by the time I get up there next, it should be a grand treat. 2 Springs, 5 hours apart. Not bad.