April in Vermont, in fact, in the Northern Hemisphere, harkens spring. While the opposite may be true in the Southern Hemisphere, October-like days, we are seeing signs of growth everywhere from longer days to flowers, shrubs and trees. In fact, one of the possible origins of the word, April, is the Latin Aprilis, suggesting opening.
As in other parts of the world, April kicks off with April Fools’ Day, often includes Easter, and tops it off with Earth Day, 4-22. This year, Easter was celebrated early in April which means the rest of the month seems slow to catch onto the notion that spring should be happening.
When actually, here in Vermont, we have a history of snow through May and even on rare occasions into June. And not just on the mountain tops!
One of my memories involves a sunny day in April when I uncharacteristically and impulsively played hooky with my kids, packed lunches, and spent the day on the mountain. Since soft snow slowed us down, I was able to ski terrain that was otherwise impossible for me, (of course my kids were just fine), and we had a full day of unstructured, simple joy.
Another memory was of a May Mother’s Day celebration that needed a last-minute change of venue. My children had planned a picnic for me – so sweet – but we needed to cancel the trek and move it to the hayloft of our barn. They pushed hay bales around to form a table and benches, decorated, and opened the hayloft doors out of which we could see snow falling heavily. Go figure. But it is a celebration I remember in detail when other more perfect plans have been filed in deeper vaults of memory.
As I write, it is chilly. Tomorrow will be the day of the (in)famous Mad River Triathlon – comprised of four events. A few weeks ago, mamma bears and their cubs began to explore the Valley in which I live. There is a mamma and 3 yearling cubs (and their den) quite close to my front door – less than 1,000’ I’d estimate. So far we have not met in person, but news traveled through the community. My dogs are on high alert and my grip on their leashes is unrelenting. (High alert is exhausting.)
My chocolate Lab, Sophie, sits at my big windows and barks at robins hopping around just outside. A little farther away, I spotted two ducks making their annual pilgrimage to our pond. Down in the field below our home there has been a pair of geese walking or simply basking in whatever sun appears.
As some of you know, my entire community was buzzing with construction activity from last spring through fall. As the snow melts this year, areas that had been excavated around our homes groan for attention. On this morning’s walk, Sophie ran off to inspect something – it was a huge dump of topsoil. Yay, help is on the way. And soon I will be able to see what I can reconstruct on my patio, where I might add some plantings, and how I might bring back my small but beloved sanctuary.
Lizzie, my yellow Lab, is finally settling and has accepted that, while Sophie roams off leash, she must remain on. She does not complain (especially since she gets her own time with me and blocks of ball play on the basketball court now that we’ve thawed) and is often simply confused about what Sophie might be up to. Her latent sudden bolt can catch me by surprise – but it’s only a chipmunk or squirrel.
Perhaps what I love most about April here, though, is the subtlety. One must make the effort to look closely. But signs of growth are happening. Subtle signs indeed. And perhaps that is the lesson of the month. While speed and efficiency are good in their rightful environment, taking time to pause and to notice may bring unanticipated pleasure.
Someone dear to me gifted me with a small book about this year of the Yang Fire Horse according to Traditional Chinese Medicine. The author writes about these April weeks: “Growth begins gently. Energy turns outward, but vision matters more than speed.”* We are in the season of the element Wood, according to TCM. Observing new growth in nature, budding trees and warming earth, it makes sense to relate the outside world to our inner being as we emerge from winter’s shorter days and quiet times of renewal. It is no accident that many of us are motivated, filled with a sense of anticipation and encouraged by possibilities. All that remains is for us to put into action developing energies.
I will close these thoughts with a quote from my gift which, I believe, says it all!
“Growth now has somewhere to come from …let the Horse find its stride.”*
*Traditional Chinese Medicine, Yang Fire Horse Lunar Health Planner 2026, Lindsay Herrara Kaplan, L.Ac., Achieving Health, LLC