walk with me wednesday

… out of winter and into spring.

I hear it everywhere.  The casual hello at the market, the how are you doing at the post office, my mom on the phone, everywhere it follows with,  it feels like spring.  Rubbing it in, she goes on to tell me the aconite in her yard are nearly over, the snowdrops already gone .  It's hard to imagine looking out my windows.  But, the sap is flowing and last Sunday saw the start of boiling.  I hear from neighbors that it will be a good year.  Perfect weather.  Sugaring and spring go together.

There is another harbinger of spring and I can see them by the change of color down by the pond.

The light these days is so bright on the snow that I've taken to wearing sun glasses.  It is impossible to get a picture that doesn't feel too purple, too blue, to bright, to contrasty.  With the snow crusting, I decide to walk to the dam without snowshoes.  It was almost hard enough, not quite. 

Breaking through a crust is hard work, especially when you find yourself up to your knees, even thigh deep in the snow.  Too late to turn back, I walk on, a few steps on top giving me confidence, the next few crashing through.   This kind of walk is exhausting but I'm on a mission.  In my pocket are pruners and over my shoulder a large bag.

The pussy willows are out.   

These are the males.  Until recently, I didn't now that the stems that I cut, the bushes bearing the furry little pussy willows, were the males.