Yesterday, the dog and I took a walk to see if Mike—of Mike’s Maple Sugar House—had started tapping the maple trees not far from our home. It feels like maple syrup weather. The days are relatively mild—in the thirties and forties—and the nights are cool—twenty or a little below.
Up the road we went. The snow is still deep, but it has begun pulling back from the road, leaving a sandy mess that collects on the dog’s paws. As we left the woods and came to the fields, I heard a male cardinal singing his spring song. To me, it seemed a little early to be setting up housekeeping, but I suppose the cardinal was just thinking ahead, perhaps trying to get a jump on other male cardinals. A lovely song on a day so warm I didn’t need to wear a hat.
Liam and I rounded the corner, and one neighbor was visiting another neighbor in his driveway. The visiting man called out, “The weather’s getting pretty warm. Soon you’ll be on your bike.”
“I can’t wait,” I replied. “It’s been a long winter.” In the driveway was a snowmobile in a trailer. “But maybe not so long for you with your snowmobile,” I said to the owner.
The owner shook his head. “Nah. It’s getting old. I’m ready for spring.”
As are we all in central Maine. Nodding, I smiled and continued on my way. When I came to one of the spots where Mike taps the trees, I saw that there were no buckets collecting sap. Maybe next week.
Liam and I walked back home. In the apple trees by Cheryl and Denny’s house I saw a robin, and again I heard the male cardinal singing his song.
It’s not quite spring, but soon, soon, it will come.