Pacing the seasons

A month or so ago, the crowns of trees around the house were all bare and skeletony looking. Now they’re mostly filled in, or out, as you prefer. and the tree-line is looking almost solid, although we know it isn’t.

tamaracks leafing out

Photo by J. Harrington

All of a sudden, it’s too warm (70℉) to comfortably do yard work. I know, for some of us it’s almost always too cold or too wet or too dry or too warm. There are those of us who are more in the hunter-gatherer mold than in the farmer or suburbanite mold. I should be standing in a river, waving a stick, to borrow from John Gierach. Instead, I’ve been mowing last year’s leaves into the mower’s bag and putting the contents onto the Better Half’s lily garden as mulch. Mother’s Day is Sunday, you know.

The older I get the more I find that the transition from a largely sedentary winter to more active, warmer, seasons to be full of discomforts. It reminds me of the old saying “I’m not the man I used to be, never was.” Although I know better than to expect to return to the vim, vigor, and resilience I had twenty or thirty years ago, I remain hopeful of remaining ambulatory and then some for at least a few years more. Under the heading of teaching an old dog new tricks, I think I’m finally learning to pace myself and quit before I collapse. I have taken to heart the Lao Tzu observation Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.

Way back when I was in high school and learning Latin, I came across a description of someone who wanted to enjoy all the bonus [good] with none of the onus [work]. We know that, except for politicians and the 1%, that’s not really viable.

Cloud

By Kay Ryan

A blue stain

creeps across

the deep pile

of the evergreens.

From inside the

forest it seems

like an interior

matter, something

wholly to do

with trees, a color

passed from one

to another, a

requirement

to which they

submit unflinchingly 

like soldiers or 

brave people

getting older. 

Then the sun 

comes back and

it’s totally over.

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