I spent the first warm day of this year splitting wood- meditating on the excitement of the coming months through the rhythmic swinging of my maul. Splitting a log on the first swing of the maul is an amazingly satisfying experience. The crack of the wood as two even pieces of firewood burst apart is a cry of joy, echoed by the bluejays I disturb with every maul stroke.
I’m aching for summer- I think that’s apparent in all of the journals I’ve written before. My fellow AmeriCorps members gracefully put up with my constant complaints, centering on the low temperatures and even the barest suggestion of snow. I dearly miss the inescapable heat of summer, when the only way to cool off is to jump into a lake or river. I’m excited to run on actual trail, rather than hard packed ice or the shoulder of the road. I’m excited to camp, both as a camp host and on my own. I’m dying to see the fungus that will come out this spring (I already can’t walk ten feet without stopping to snap a photo of a frozen mushroom). I’m excited for all the creatures that come out of hibernation and torpor- I’m dreaming of the day I’ll wake to the songs of peepers in our backyard. Above all, I’m pining for the day that I can hike without slipping up and down the trail on ice. This early, false spring is a tease- every day the temperature bumps above 50 degrees and the sun emerges, I feel myself coming back to life, like the lizard I truly am.
The recent return of the red-winged blackbird and the robin gives me hope that this warm March weather could continue for a while- I know, I know, New England springs are deceiving and every time I say I’m enjoying the warmth, someone will jump in to remind me that we will still probably get another three or four blizzards before the equinox. I try not to let that get me down when it’s simply so nice outside!
Here in the LRCC, the warmer temperatures mean an uptick in the pace of everything we do. Conservation is a summer game- things move slowly in the winter, when high winds, snowstorms, and negative temperatures prevent on the ground work more often than we’d like. In the summer, these obstacles melt away, leaving a clear path for all we need to do- invasive species removal, bird counts, water quality, and camp and lake hosting. As the trees begin to bud, our hours will be full of exciting and hard work. I’m happy to get a taste of that now, splitting wood and listening to the birds gossip.
Kodi has big plans after finishing her term here with the LRCC. She’ll be hiking the Long Trail this fall, and next year? Catch her tackling the PCT! Learn more about Kodi here.