Spring Equinox 2025: In the Muck

In some places, this is the beginning of Spring, but where I live, it’s more like mid-Spring.

In Port Townsend, Washington we haven’t had enough rain yet—the winter didn’t bring the normal amount and Spring rains have not settled in with their regular pattern… Luckily, we still have time as Spring can last through “Junuary” around here!

Even so, there are quite a few places on the land that are mucky! Down by the compost bins at the bottom of the mulch beds, I could lose a garden clog if I’m not careful.

There is standing water near the comfrey circle that the native Ninebark and basket willow I planted are very happy to drink in.

The leafy bower path that winds by Green Woman and down into the young alders is also quite soft in many places.

And walking the forks path on the nearby DNR lands, I have to dance around and carefully pick my way through very muddy pathways.

I lived in Vermont for a few years in the 90’s, out a ways from town on dirt roads. I remember a Spring where I had to drive really fast in between the muddy ruts up a hill, just hoping I’d have enough speed to make it through before the muck sucked me in! There we had 3 seasons: Mud, Construction, and Winter!

It’s a sign that the earth cannot take in all the water quickly, which indicates to me that, with this water stored, we will have enough water to make it through our droughty summer… So, the mud is a healthy sign at this time of year.

This reminds me of our small garden pond. It’s pretty shallow—just a foot or so—and just below the water you can see the mud (silt, watered-down earth).

And right now, the skunk cabbage is popping up out of the mud at the bottom of the ravine path—that’s the picture at the top of this post.

Isn’t it amazing??

It will be up even farther when this is posted. I think they look like lanterns keeping vigil.

I wonder if remembering the lilies and skunk cabbage growing out of the muck can help me in these difficult political times.

Is it possible that just as we need to experience mud season to have a healthy earth, that we need to go through these times as a country to learn how to bloom and have a healthy society?

Maybe we can learn to be care-full of where we put our feet.

Maybe we can learn to trudge through the muck and keep going, maybe even dance?

Maybe we can watch for what is growing out of the mud and be reminded that the beautiful lantern or flower need the muck to grow.

Spring Equinox 2024–Coming Alive!

Spring has been quietly and not-so-quietly growing since early February in the Pacific Northwest. Spring Equinox marks the middle for us, and for some areas, the beginning of Spring.

In 2024 Spring Equinox falls on March 19th at 8:06 pm Pacific Time. This is a time when the day and night are close to equal, with the days becoming longer and longer until summer solstice is here!

The living earth gives us so many ways to participate in Spring—aligning with the growing light, practicing balancing, making way for the invitation to new leafing and budding and lengthening…

This year, I’m drawn to the invitation to join with the aliveness happening all around us, to enter into the movement, the vibrancy, the joy, even the noise of Spring.

The varied thrush is calling her long high whistle, the peepers are returning to the pond to call to their mates, and the robins and migrating songbirds are showing up to sing. Life is awaking!

Wintertime called us to rest and be quiet so we could be ready for Spring’s energy, and now Spring is here calling us to more!

This poem by the poet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer showcases a bird we know well here, the Kingfisher. We are always excited when Kingfisher visits us with their distinctive call!

Beyond Quiet
From bare branch to bare branch
kingfishers weave the dry tick
of their call through morning—
as if sticks are rattling,
as if stones are clattering—
and whatever part of me
that is longing for quiet
is invited into the racket.
I say I want peace,
but what the heart really wants
is to know itself
as part of everything,
to belong to the world
of grinding and trilling,
scolding and chattering,
to knit itself into this raucous day,
strident and so alive.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

Winter’s rest and peace give way to Spring’s aliveness!

Of course, we need to carry rest with us and still make time for it, but the invitation is always is to knit ourselves into the day, even one that is strident, in order to be so alive!