Signs of Spring Among the Trees

At last, the Lanark Highlands are showing signs of sliding into a warmer season, and I did a little ecstatic dance in the snow out there yesterday.

At this time of year, the woodlands are a hive of activity: streams, creeks, waterfalls and springs opening everywhere and making their musical way among the stones, groves and budding trees, Great Horned Owls hooting from their nest in the old oak beyond the pond, ducks and geese flying overhead and voicing their return greetings. There is glorious golden sunlight, and even the brisk March wind sings of warmer days and greening time.

The maple syrup season is in full swing, and the air is full of fragrant smoke from the cauldrons, kettles, pots and vats, boiling away in the woods and performing their sweet annual alchemy.

I feel as mad as the proverbial March hare. . . .