It’s Earth Day and yet, I wanted to hibernate. That didn’t go so well. First, I looked out the living room window this morning and noticed a skunk staggering as it walked in circles–like a dog chasing its tail–only the skunk kept falling to the ground and then getting up and continuing in the same fashion. So I called the game warden. A neighbor did the same and a short time later an animal control officer put the skunk out of its rabid misery.
And then I was supposed to co-lead a hike in Pondicherry Park, but still in hibernate-mode, I managed to get out of it. My excuse–work load. Which was true, but staying focused wasn’t happening. So, I headed out the back door and decided to change my point of view. The high bush blueberry leaf buds began to do the trick as they offered their gift of quiet beauty.
Nearby, red maples practically screamed for attention. Male flowers have long, extended stamens that are coated in dusty yellow-green pollen. The females have a well developed ovary with two long stigmas but the stamens are reduced in size and non-functional. Just seeing them lifted my mood.
As I made my way to the vernal pool, I stopped to smell the trailing arbutus, aka Mayflower. But sniff as I did while squatting on all fours, I couldn’t smell the soft scent people rave about. And I have a good sniffer. For me, the gift of this wildflower is all in the joy it brings as one of our first to bloom.
My next stop, was of course, the vernal pool that I frequent on a regular basis. While something has been disturbing some of the egg masses, others continue to develop.
Each little tadpole swims about in its jelly-covered egg, offering a gift of hope.
Salamander eggs also are enjoying the warmth of being encased in jelly–especially where the sun shines upon them. It’s most helpful for development when the egg masses can float to the top of the pond and take advantage of the sun’s heat.
For now, each little pod within the orb reminds me of coffee beans.
While standing silently beside the pool, I began to notice other forms of life, including the water striders. Do you see the two mating? These wonders of the natural world appear to skate on water, but really its the water-repellant hairs on their hind and middle legs that allow them to glide nimbly across the surface. They offer a gift of amazement.
Their favorite food happens to be abundant in this pool–mosquito larvae. I have to say it’s a food offering, but also a gift to all of us–we should celebrate the water striders as much as we do the dragonflies.
I left the pool and realized I was among the turkeys. Tom was ready to offer his gift to his harem. Such a handsome dude.
And with that, I realized that I was ready to join the world again so I drove to the trailhead for Bald Pate to join Loon Echo Land Trust for an Earth Day hike. The leader of the gang was this precocious tyke. At three years old, I kept insisting he’s 33. He kept telling me he’s only three. It can’t be. Though this was his first mountain to climb, I suspect there are many more in his future. He offered just the right tonic today and I fell in love.
As we climbed, we paused to look west and admire the view. Though the sun wasn’t truly shining, the day was getting brighter, literally and figuratively.
At the summit, we took time to examine the pitch pine cones with their prickly scales. Sometimes beauty has an edge.
Before we descended, our little hiking buddy posed with his mom, the outgoing executive director of Loon Echo. Carrie will be missed and we wish her and her family well as they prepare for their move to Wisconsin in a couple of months. Her dedication to land conservation is to be admired. And that mean-looking grin–oh my.
Also to be admired and the reason our local community and those beyond have been dealing with extreme shock these past couple of days–Adam Perron, who’s life was snuffed out two days ago in a tragic accident. Adam was the milfoil dude and a naturalist/educator at Lakes Environmental Association in Bridgton, where I serve on the board (and chair the ed cmt). He was also a student in the Maine Master Naturalist Program (Falmouth 2014) when I served in my first year as a mentor, so we spent many hours carpooling to classes and field trips and solving all kinds of environmental problems–in our opinions at least.
He was most at home in places like Holt Pond, where he loved to share his knowledge with others. R.I.P. Adam. I’m grateful for the gift of time spent in your presence. It strikes us all that your candle was snuffed out way too early, but as a friend reminded me today, we never know when it is our turn. Here’s to you, Beth and Abby.
And to everyone else, hug the ones you love and don’t forget to wonder. Every day is a gift.
10 thoughts on “Every Day is a Gift”
Thank you for the gift of your day.
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You, JinMe, know the truth in the gift of every day.
Leigh – This as an absolutely beautiful piece!!
Thanks Sharon. Hug your husband!
Wonderful post Leigh, thank you.
Thanks for taking the time to read it, Sharon. It certainly helped me process.
Thank you so much for your beautiful words and photos. I didn’t know Adam, but I feel everyone’s grief and pain. I am devastated.
Kathy, that’s the beauty of living where we do–in a place where happiness and grief ripple across our small communities. Hug your gang today.
Leigh, That is an absolutely lovely piece of writing.
Thanks Jackey. Hug your husband.
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