This is my ‘Ode to Spring’ 

Ode to Spring

I love the patch of dirty snow in the shadow of the garage.

I love the tail end of March.

I love knowing I was born then, in the midst of a snowstorm.

I love the frost heaves on Oak Hill Road.

I love that my childhood friend, Dan Frost, once puked on a Frost Heave sign.

I love sunlight till 7 p.m.

I love the smell of thawing earth.

I love the sun on my neck.

I love peepers.

I love the first day of ice-out the way I loved my Aunt Mary’s in-ground pool right after she’d rolled off its cover.

I love birds returning like they’ve never left.

I love the plink of sap on the bottom of the bucket.

I love how much work goes into one quart of maple syrup.

I love ice fishing in a T-shirt.

I love when turkeys gobble after I slam my car door.

I love the hardiness of skunk cabbage and how they bring back the pollinators.

I love May’s indecisiveness.

I love the year’s first thunderstorm.

I love that I used to be so afraid of lightning that I’d draw my blinds and hide in my bed until the storm passed.

I love how much I love lightning, now.

I love robins pulling worms from the lawn.

I love the storm that chased me as I steered my skiff full throttle through the bay.

I love Maine farm stands in spring — asparagus, rhubarb, snap peas.

I love when streams carry too much for culverts.

I love the defenseless fawn in the field and how it remains still until its mother returns.

I love the white wildflowers that grow on Amber’s grave.

I love the first blackfly bite more than the second.

I love how early the sun rises.

I love fog clinging to the Kennebec.

I love tying flies I’ll never use.

I love planning camping trips, especially the meals.

I love the cow moose wading the river but I love the twin calves trailing her even more.

I love the doe in the ditch that didn’t survive the winter.

I love Sox games on the radio, loved Castiglione’s voice and will miss him.

I love how, each spring, I imagine I’ll join a men’s league baseball team and pitch again, but haven’t, yet.

I love open windows and the cool breeze now stirring my apartment.

I love the porcupine that digs grubs in the yard.

I love fiddlehead-greens and how well they take to butter in a skillet.

I love bungee-ing the canoe in the back of the truck.

I love all the water I’ll never fish.

I love the solstice.

I love the sounds streams make.

I love setting off on adventures almost as much as I love the adventures themselves.

I love beginnings more than endings.