The frogs in the pasture pond are waking up for the season. The lonely "peep-peep" of a single pond dweller could be heard last night as I came back from the barn. This spring has been somewhat typical in a strange sort of way. We've had days in the high 60's, in mid March after a mild February. The kids launched their raft in the pond and were nearly swimming yesterday. We've raked most of the lawns and there is not any snow to be found here in Bowdoin. This morning we awoke to a dusting of snow and a biting wind out of the northwest. The Canadian air still has some frost left in it to blow us back into winter. I guess this is what the weather has always been in Maine, unpredicatble at best.
The earliest settlers, of hardy stock, were always at the mercy of Mother Nature. Sheltered by rudimentary houses and eating only what they could grow, collect or kill, they were acutely aware of their environment at all times. How we have changed, with insulated houses, central heat and warm motor cars, we seem to have it easy. I think we all should get a little closer to the land, to gather what it offers, to grow when the season is right.
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