I have spent the last several evenings in the woods, just sitting and observing. I love the hour when day turns to night, but then who doesn’t find that time magical? Spring is in full swing for much of the country, but in Maine we are just getting the first hints. At first glance everything is still grey, wet and cold (and somewhat depressing) but if you spend some time to look — really look — there, before you, is the subtle beauty I have come to admire so much. Yes, the forests remain full of greys, but not the cold greys of winter. Now they are the warm, lively greys displaying the promise of new life. It’s a small shift, hardly perceptible, but it’s there. And it changes by the hour. Long views through forest interiors are just beginning to dance with the addition tiny buds everywhere, like a dress rehearsal for the coming spring.
People often ask me, “What is your favorite season?” The answer is, “My favorite season is the next one.” The more I look and the more I live, the more certain I am that the transition is what thrills me.




