Spring, one of my favorite times of the year. I love those moments when we transition between seasons and winter into spring can be so uplifting and revitalizing. It can also be muddy.
I’ve started cracking my bedroom window at night to take advantage of the freshening air. You know my bedroom window. The one that overlooks the road leaving Saxtons River heading south? The one that overlooks that part of the road where trucks decide to shift as they leave Saxtons River heading south. Okay so there are not that many trucks leaving Saxtons River headed south but there are a lot of those whatta you call ‘ems? Oh yeah, 17 year old boys WHO THINK THEY’RE MARIO ANFRICKINDRETTI. I always wanted to be one of those guys but no matter how hard I tried I could not get my father’s 1979 Plymouth Valiant station wagon to perform the way Nelson Severance could get his Ford Falcon to go from zero to 60 mph in a gazillionth of a second. Ah 60 mph. Was not possible in a Plymouth Valiant unless you were coming down Rt. 125 from the top of Middlebury Gap in neutral.
Slope enthusiasts up at Killington have made the equivalent of a gazillion trips down the stairwell of the Empire State Building. Did you know that in 1945 when a plane ran into the Empire State Building, elevator operator Betty Lou Oliver survived a 75 story plunge? No one names their kid Betty Lou anymore but it was the most popular girls’ name in 1946.
The wicked diehard skiers are not ready to quit, hoping for one more weekend of fun. As we transition to warmer weather they start to trade pants for shorts, plant themselves in what is called corn and often end up covered with raspberries. The rest of us, refusing to live in the past, are looking towards warmer weather.
As I look outside my living room window (you know my living room window- it’s right below my bedroom window) I have noticed folks getting back into jogging. As if trying to nudge spring into showing up sooner rather than later they run by in their underwear dodging the snowpack of yesterday which is now flowing down the road.
Which brings us to the whiteness of March skin. Vermont is not known as a state with a high percentage of people of color. This is not so much an issue of race and diversity as it is a situation in which we have acres of flesh that has spent the last 5 months under 5 layers of Merino. Acres of flesh now blindingly making its way up the road that leaves Saxtons River heading south.
I think I’ll sit on my porch and watch life go by. It’s supposed to be in the mid to upper thirties. T shirt weather.
Love you all. Peace. Peter
