Two Springs

"What good is the warmth of summer without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?" - John Steinbeck

After I moved from New England to the Sun Belt I had little inclination to notice the cycles of nature - the seasons, the moon phases and the sun position. I tended to stay inside and run the AC, day and night. I only became reacquainted with nature's cycles after spending some time at Woodman's Lee and experiencing life close to the earth and without electricity.

The specter of a power interruption evokes catastrophic images, providing a growing market for the emergency generator industry. Once, while perfectly content on the cabin porch, I read a heart-rending account of storm victims who've somehow endured days without electric service. It didn't occur to me until later that I was also a power-less victim. (Hey, wait a minute...aren't I entitled to some FEMA money, too?)

Paradoxically, I find that going without electricity is empowering and liberating. You get up at sunrise and power down after sunset. This feels just right. The sounds of nature transmit unattenuated through open windows. New windows, by the way, have warning stickers cautioning homeowners about the dangers of actually opening them. Here's the label that greets us when we open our kitchen window at our townhouse.

A Very Dangerous Open Window

As for feeling 'just right', well, there are meds for that. Our culture has little time for sun, moon and seasons - there are apps for those. Society must evolve, dutifully accepting that open windows are a hazardous liability and that power failures create pitiful victims who deserve government compensation. We must all aspire to safe, fixed windows and hermetically seal out nature. I lived that way in Florida, rushing from air conditioned car to air conditioned work, home and shopping centers. It was a depressing, unhealthy, unsatisfying existence.

The alternative, once I discovered it, was to live somewhere where I could embrace the natural world. For instance, work during the sunlit hours and relax when the sun sets. Once I got used to that, it seemed blasphemy not to. We have the incredible fortune of moving to an area with four distinct seasons. All too distinct at times, such as this week when the temperatures plunge below 0F. But that provides spring sweetness and spring is only a month away.

We are also fortunate to be able to experience spring twice this year - once here in SC and once in upstate NY. Spring arrives early in SC, around mid-February, but so does summer. Summer in the South tends to quickly wear out its invitation, as the dog days become a near-death sentence of heat index warnings.

Springtime is lovely here in the South, but it's more intense and meaningful in the Adirondack mountains. There, the tree buds seem to burst open overnight, the air is clean, the earth smells rich and full of life after it thaws. The birds sing with gusto; perhaps bidding good-bye to an Adirondack winter is cause for intense celebration.