Sunday Searching

Evidence below of color in the February Vermont landscape.

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When we sugared, February was the month of gauging when to tap — and sometimes a month when we began boiling. Other years, the winter dragged on and on, and February often seemed a month of hurry up and get ready to sugar — and then wait.

Having spent most of my adult life sugaring, those physical patterns wore into me. At a concert the other night, I thought how the drummer must have the habit of transporting his drums, to all kinds of places.

Winter, for long-term New Englanders, I think, comes with its own kind of baggage, our knowledge of particular hardnesses of snow, or the how the fluffiness of drifting snow globe flakes should be savored. Or, perhaps, our determination to seek that flash of color in a landscape of white.

The unexamined life is not worth living, as the aphorism goes, but perhaps an honorable and informed life requires examining others’ lives, not just one’s own. Perhaps we do not know ourselves unless we know others. And if we do, we know that nobody is nobody.

Rebecca Solnit, Whose Story is This?

 

About Brett Ann Stanciu

A writer and sugarmaker, Brett Ann lives with her two daughters in stony soil Vermont. Her novel HIDDEN VIEW was published by Green Writers Press in the fall of 2015. Let my writing speak for itself.
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4 Responses to Sunday Searching

  1. I love the quote and the way you imagined the drummer moving the drums. Last night a fox darted in front of us. A streak of orange, like flame.

  2. For many years, I’ve helped produce music events here in Southern Vermont, and I’m always amazed at the speed in which musicians and sound guys and gals unpack, move, setup, and repack all their equipment. It is always like an intricate puzzle, right down to where the smallest cords are stashed. Love the quote!

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