I’m not going to lie. This post is not what I intended on writing while I was brainstorming during Hannah’s gymnastics lesson two weeks ago.  It was Monday, March 9, and it was a perfect spring day.  I declared that day the start of Spring because the Super Worm Moon, Daylight Savings, and beautiful weather combined to make the perfect trifecta for the start of this most rejuvenating transition season.  I had ideas of renewal, rebirth, and reawakening swirling around my head.  I contemplated on how that day was like all four seasons in one day – bitter cold in the morning to breezy and hot in the late afternoon.  That is what Spring is all about – memories of the season before and glimpses of the season to come.  But I wasn’t prepared for what was on the horizon when just days later Covid-19 sent the community into a frenzy and the schools were closed.  Needless to say writing a blog post was not my top priority.

When something as alarming as a pandemic strikes and social distancing is highly encouraged, life as we know it changes over night.  The new normal is thrust upon us with such intensity that many people struggle to conform.  Stress and anxiety lead to behaviors ranging from flat out denial to hoarding as if the end of days is upon us.  It is a time of uncertainty and fear as small businesses face the unknown, job security is lost, people see their retirement funds dwindle, hospitals are overburdened, and the health and safety of everyone is potentially at risk.  This new normal of socially distancing ourselves is the only way to slow down the infection rates and allow those individuals on the front lines to do their jobs to the best of their abilities.  I, for one, am grateful that I am not considered essential during this time of crisis.  My life continues much the same except for doing a little bit of homeschooling and a whole lot of cooking.  I am still able to enjoy my animals and my property while I spend my quiet moments wondering about how this experience will leave its mark on history.

Wondering is a much better than worrying.  It allows my brain to process what is happening but doesn’t induce a sense of helplessness. I decided early on to limit my media consumption and consciously choose to focus on what is within my control.  I cannot worry about my stocks and retirement accounts.  I cannot worry about my police officer husband because I have to have faith that he will do his best to keep himself safe.  I cannot worry about my children’s education because this experience will not affect their long term futures.  I cannot worry about friends and family because I am helpless against the virus.  But there is a lot I can do.  I can ration the supplies I do have so I don’t make needless trips to the stores.  I can offer words of kindness and support to friends more impacted by this situation.  I can check on loved ones and neighbors and offer any assistance within my abilities (like giving fresh eggs because the girls just keep on laying).  Simply put I will carry on life as usual and do my part to lessen the burden on an already exhausted system. 

I am fortunate that my life as usual happens on park like property.  I don’t need to go far to experience beauty and peace.  I can stand on my front porch and watch the horses napping in the pasture, the chickens roaming the yard, the goats meandering through the fields, the geese splashing on the pond, and the song birds enjoying the feeders.  If it wasn’t for modern technology I wouldn’t have a clue that the world beyond my seven acres is changing.  But it is changing and although I am isolated I am not insulated from what is happening around the globe.  These are trying times and ones that will show the true colors of our fellow man.  I can only hope that goodness will persist and the world will emerge all the better and stronger from a shared experience that has rocked all of humanity.

I know!  I know! I am stepping down from my soapbox.  Back to the little slice of heaven I call home and the wondering that has prompted me to write this.  Spring is officially upon us.  Daffodils and tulips are pushing up through the softening earth.  Birds are singing.  The grass is greening.  You get the picture.  But it is still March and we all know that early spring is comparable to a pubescent teenager - moody, volatile, blustery, but also pleasant, warm and hopeful.  One day you’re ecstatically throwing open the windows and the next you are begrudgingly turning up the heat.  This is a time of transformation as the plants and animals awaken from their winter’s rest and we start looking forward to the coming months with anticipation.  Spring offers the promise of better weather; of longer days and time outdoors.  I personally get excited about the gardens I will grow and start planning and preparing with the hopefulness of an expectant mother.  I’m sure my fellow gardeners understand what I mean.  And they also understand that like a teenager’s mood there is nothing absolute about this season’s weather and changes can occur within a few short weeks or extend through months.   Spring can really keep you on your toes.

It was some sunny day last week that I found myself strolling the property making mental notes of what I envision for my garden plots.  Given the current state of affairs I think I will plan my vegetable garden to allow for maximum yield so a food shortage will never be a concern.  As for my butterfly garden I’d like to see it totally goat proofed so we humans can enjoy it as an outdoor living space.  While I wandered and pondered I couldn’t help but notice the tiny nuthatches enjoying the last of my homemade winter suet cakes.  I love watching these little blue-gray and white birds year round as they defy gravity moving up, down, and all around the trunk of the old tamarack tree.  They are delightful and entertaining to say the least and add cheer to any dreary winter’s day or contemplative spring one.  I tucked that moment away and moved on to the next pressing matter – feeding the horses. 

It was on my walk to the hay storage that I heard the most delightful bird song.  I know for a fact it wasn’t the nasal sound of a nuthatch but the sweet little vocalizations of an eastern bluebird.  And there sitting on the fence, its blue and rust colored plumage competing with the reinvigorated landscape, was a solitary male warbling his heart out.  Aha!  The harbinger of Spring has arrived.  I have been waiting for these cheery little thrushes to return.  No doubt the earth is teeming with life because a bluebird’s favorite meal is insects caught on the ground.  I was absolutely giddy.  Moments like these make time stop and problems fade.  I continued on with my task of grabbing a bale of hay and tossing flakes over the fence with a light heart as the bluebird flew from fence to car to telephone wire serenading me as I went.  Sigh…If only life was like a Disney movie then that bluebird undoubtedly would have been perched upon my shoulder.

Life unfortunately is nothing like a Disney movie.  If anything, lately, people are making it out to be more like Mad Max except the battle is over toilet paper.  Do you see how easy it is for the mind to go from whimsy to doom? But I, in my ever wondering fashion, look for the lesson in the everyday little moments.  There was something significant about seeing the nuthatch and bluebird.  At first I thought maybe they were reminders to just slow down and appreciate my surroundings.  But then I started seeing the two of them on a regular basis.  And when I say regular I mean every morning, since that initial magical encounter, the first birds I see when I go out to do my chores are a nuthatch at the feeder and a bluebird on the roof of my car.  Clearly I must investigate because in my experience the best life lessons come from nature.

How wonderful is it to live in a place and time with information right at our fingertips?  My book cases are full and the internet even fuller.  So it wasn’t hard for me to retrieve the information I decided to seek.  As I mentioned the nuthatch seems to defy gravity as it moves about a tree trunk in every direction.  It is a tiny, charismatic bird with an unmistakable sound.  I wasn’t the least bit surprised when I learned that it shows up during a time like this – a time of fear and harsh reality.  The nuthatch tells you to have courage to face a crowd and to see the advantage of a negative situation.  Well, if that isn’t appropriate!  This whole experience has been a huge bummer with the past two weeks being filled with fears of catching the virus and running out of resources to homeschooling kids and being isolated.  I definitely need all the courage I can muster when I go food shopping.  I already am not a fan of crowds. Now I have to deal with germy ones prone to hoarding.  But I am quite adept at handling negative situations.  As much as I loathe what this virus is doing to the world at large I have to say that I am enjoying the slower pace of life.  Instead of rushing about to activities like gymnastics and lacrosse we are leisurely playing catch in the yard and enjoying family dinners.  Then on a global level we can’t ignore the positive impact the slowdown has had on the environment.  But the greatest advantage I see coming from this crisis is the endurance of the human spirit (take the balcony singing Italians for example).  Sure there are a lot of selfish and unsavory individuals out there hoarding supplies and profiting from the increased demand; people prepared to take what they want without a second thought of their neighbor’s wellbeing.  However, the people who are essential to keeping us healthy and fed are still hard at work.  Others are volunteering doing everything from sewing face masks to delivering meals.  Even a small act of offering up some of your toilet paper or food supplies to someone in need has a big impact on that person’s life.  Yes, there is much about this situation to hate but, personally speaking, the thought of giving into the negativity will only make enduring this crisis that much more difficult.

Who would have thought that a bird weighing no more than an ounce could have such a big impact?  I am so glad it showed up when it did.  Now, if you’re wondering about the significance of the Bluebird, let me just tell you that Disney was right to use this bird in the song Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah from the 1946 movie Song of the South (although I have not seen the movie since I was very small I whole heartedly believe it definitely is not a movie worthy of our modern times).  The line “Bluebird on my shoulder.  It’s the truth, it’s actual.  And everything is satisfactual” plays over and over in my mind when I see this symbol of happiness and contentment.  It is as if he showed up with his song just at the moment my happiness was in danger of being replaced by the pessimism portrayed in the media.  And every day he arrives to remind me that I need not lose my joy while coping with the new reality we all face.  After all, just because life is different and more stressful that doesn’t mean we can’t see the world through the eyes of our younger and more imaginative selves.  If your health and the health of your loved ones haven’t been affected count yourself lucky and go play, create, daydream, and learn.  Count it as a blessing that you are able to do those very things that you may not have done in years.

Spring has sprung and the plants and animals will continue on just as they always have (possibly better without so much interference from us).  We, the humans, are the ones who must adapt because who knows when life will go back to normal.  It is all a matter of time before Covid-19 will run its course or a vaccine is invented but the uncertainty lies in the amount of time.  Until then we have to live responsibly knowing that our actions may affect those around us.  I say this knowing full well that there will be so many fearful people going about life only concerned about themselves.  My hope for everyone reading this is that you will not despair during this season of change but will embrace the qualities of the nuthatch and bluebird by facing your fears with a better outlook and remembering that courage and joy reside within all of us.

Bluebird photo by Ed Frampton