Keeping Your Head Above Water

Living by a river in springtime is a challenge.  Snowmelt, warming temperatures, and rain contribute to the river’s swollen rise. Looking out the windows and opening the basement door to see how many stairs are covered occupy me. While talking on the phone to a friend, I watched a tree with a giant root ball bounding through the turbulence and just barely pass under the bridge. I feel anxious, worried, edgy, fearful.

So what can I practice to lessen the unease?

Breathe – deep breaths in, long breaths out. I, like the river, have rhythms and it’s best to focus on my own.

Accept the things I cannot change. No way can I keep the river from doing its thing.

Appreciate the benefits – nourished soils, easier time for the steelhead trout to jump the falls.

Go with the flow rather than aimlessly moving or being swept along

Stay afloat, buoyed by positive activities and friends

Sugaring

The roads leading from the village soften into muddy ruts.  The dog’s belly sponges up gravel as we walk. In the river, chunks of ice crash into each other on their journey downstream, spinning and twisting, like glistening bumper cars.

Roger’s place is shuttered, the tractor still, the road to the sugarhouse muddy and wet. One needs a pair of secured waders to cross that divide.

Jeff’s dog barks as we pass. He hustles out of the sugarhouse to quiet him and waves. Steam rises from the roof opening indicating that boiling is happening.

 

A gallon of maple syrup is the result of boiling 40 gallons of sap until it becomes the thick and amber colored. The practice has changed from galvanized buckets to plastic pipelines and evaporator pans fueled by wood slabs to high tech reverse osmosis processes.

For me, sugaring is redemption -  from a long cold winter, hunkering down, shoulder to the grindstone to expansion, hope, and opening of the heart.  I love the feel of the steam on my face, the smell of the mud, the sun’s warmth on my back, the trickling of the snowmelt along the roadside.

Sugaring Party at my grandparents'. My mother is in 2nd row with plaid coat.

The rituals of gathering and boiling and of coming together for sugar-on-snow parties, complete with raised doughnuts and tart pickles, underscore transition and hope for new life.

We’ll be gardening soon.