Nature Connection: Waking Up Is Hard To Do

It’s hard not to notice that spring is springing. She’s a little saucy, a little shy, and a lot welcome. Every day we get a little more light at both ends of the day, and if you’re like me you may be too busy enjoying the extra light in late afternoon to think about making dinner. After all, for months we’ve been cooking dinner in the dark. All this light is a bit disorienting, but I’ll adjust.

We’re still waiting for it to warm up, but if you’re an old timer like myself, you know that’s just the way it is here on Cape Cod. It stays cool longer than the mainland and then in the fall it stays warmer. This is all due to that lovely ocean that surrounds us. Most of us just carry half a closet of clothes in the backseat of the car. Hats, mittens, gloves, scarves, all still can be found on my own backseat, and my trusty old L.L. Bean boots still sit by the back door. They’re good in mud as well as snow, so they’ll be there a while. I’ve dusted off my flip flops, but I’ve yet to wear them. The countdown may have begun, however.

In my house one of us is up before dawn, at least until the sun gets up before five, while the other sleeps in late, until 6:30 or heaven forbid, 7 a.m. These days the stars still shine brightly, the yard bunny watches me as I step outside, and the cardinal begins to sing from his favorite perch as the stars begin to fade. The song sparrow joins the serenade, and a robin starts and stops as it adjusts its morning voice.

Everything is waking up now, the earthworms and the chipmunks, the turtles and the frogs. On a recent walk I came upon a groundhog that looked as if it hadn’t been up for too long, but it will have babies soon if it hasn’t already. 

After a long winter’s nap, it’s hard to wake up and be ready for the action, lickety split. I think we can all relate. Very few of us jump out of bed in full gear, immediately ready for the day ahead. Imagine being asleep, or in deep torpor for months and then facing the bright sunlight and a world where everything else is already on the move. For some, this is not just disorienting, but quite dangerous, not unlike that period when young animals are first out and about or young birds begin to get a taste of freedom. They may not be operating at 100 percent, but their predators may be. 

Fortunately, most animals instinctively know to stay hidden and are alert, even when groggy. Not all, though, so if you see an animal acting sluggish it may just need a little time to get limber and ready for prime time, as my grandson might say. Let it be.

Plants are waking up as well. The weather and temperatures have been pretty crazy, fluctuating a bit wildly even in one day. Still, most seem to adapt and grow, adjusting to each change as best they can. Everywhere I’ve been this week I have seen signs of buds fattening, getting ready to burst into bloom. Canes of briars and blueberries are brightening, and the old leaves of oaks and beeches are finally getting the word it is time to fall all the way, making room for new growth.

If you’ve left old flower stalks standing, you can leave them. New growth will take over soon and they will fall to the ground where they will nurture and enhance the new plants. This is nature’s way, one we humans have rushed and changed to create our artificially manicured gardens.

Say no to the leaf blowers. Not only do they blow away leaves but layers of soil and all the beneficial microbes and organisms that fertilize your lawn and garden naturally. Of course, then you will have to replace those with expensive and manufactured fertilizers. Let nature do her thing. If enough of us say no to the landscapers who use the leaf blowers, we can all go back to raking, which is better for our health as well as the health of our yards and gardens.

Every day there is a new delight. I’m pretty sure this is why most of us are fans of spring. New growth, new flowers, new birds arriving as they migrate north to breed, new light to fill our days.

At the beach the ospreys and piping plovers are back. Some willets and oystercatchers have also arrived. The canal is still full of eider ducks as I write, but many may have headed north by the time you read this. If you’re lucky you may catch a loon in full breeding regalia. Some seem to be sticking around year-round and may even be breeding in some of our larger lakes on the upper Cape. 

Eagles are nesting, as are the ravens which are relatively new here. Neither species is here in great numbers but the fact that they are here at all is pretty cool, I think.

As nature wakes up, I hope we wake up to the massive amounts of ecological degradation that are occurring worldwide. Predictions for ecological collapse keep changing, and not for the better, but it seems most of the population would rather watch videos of dancing dogs and chickens than be concerned.

Will we wake up in time? I’ve spent my life pondering this question, but these days I can’t say I’m feeling hopeful. Yet I look around and see the sparrows gathering grasses for their nest and watch the new batch of baby squirrels peeking out of their leafy drey in one of our holly trees. I hear the peepers calling and the plovers peeping and I can’t help but smile. They give me a nugget of hope.