I Remembered to be Amazed

We awoke to a small riot of snow, the flakes twirling and skipping as they fell, riding the whims of a north wind. The air has a hazy, almost blurred quality, as if everything were wrapped in a thin layer of gauze. Or maybe as if we were wrapped in a thin layer of gauze.

For a moment, I felt the sinking sensation of weather-induced exasperation, followed in short order by an image of myself floundering through the snow, harnessed to a sled full of maple sap. There’s a certain rise in Melvin’s field that always threatens to reverse the proper order of this arrangement: Not I pulling the sled forward, but the sled pulling me backward, sliding and stumbling toward the point at which the slope flattens into a perpendicular-running length of barbed wire.

I bet I’ve hauled 2,000 or more gallons of sap over that fence and up that hill, one or both of the boys stabilizing the sled from behind. When the snow melts, we switch to the garden cart, weaving around the holdout pockets of snow, the ones fortunate enough to have fallen in the shade cast by the big tree  line maples. Even where the snow has mostly melted, the packed ribbon of our sled track remains, diminishing day by day. Then gone.

I walked outside this morning with these thoughts in my mind, bearing the weight of the new snow and all that has preceded it, three-feet deep or more on the flat. And then I was in the snow, and it was falling on and around me in that same flighty, wind borne way. I could feel it brush the exposed skin of my face, but only barely. I realized it weighed almost nothing, and I remembered to be amazed.

•    •     •

The knife sharpening/spoon carving workshop exceeded our wildest expectations. For eight hours, our home was filled to capacity (and perhaps a little beyond) with the infectious energy of people bent to a productive task with purpose and curiosity. There were men and women, young children and elders. Lucian and Andre did an outstanding job of tending to the varying needs of this diverse array.

Penny and I had expected that we might feel a little worn down by hosting the event, but the opposite is true: We feel gratified and energized. Which is a darn good thing, because our next gathering – a half-day brown ash berry/foraging basket workshop – is only a few weeks away. Details real soon!