At the end of April as the first yellow narcissus buds appear, physical distancing and the slower pace of the new normal has begun to settle in.
As I sat drinking peach-ginger tea at the edge of the field an arrow shaped cloud floated by. I noticed the red branch ends of the birch trees, the yellow sheen surrounding the tips of the poplar and the branches of a small pine across the field began to sway in its own singular breeze.
There was a red-winged blackbird calling to my right and the far off hammering of a woodpecker in the bush to my left.
A few nights ago, as I watched the meteor shower, there were no flying lights from planes to distract from my falling star count.
The world has had to change in the pandemic. As people experiment with sourdough and share music online I’m grateful for the burgeoning Spring, sapsuckers acting as alarm clocks by drumming on the metal roof and the constant changing chorus of birdsong.
About the author: Kim Hanewich is a practising artist and writer who runs www.circlesofbalance.ca She grew up rurally on the north shore of Lake Ontario and has lived in the Madawaska Valley, where she raised her two sons, for the past 30 years.