Though it’s hard to tell right now, spring officially arrived at 12:57 EDT on March 20 when the sun crossed the equator, headed north. As inevitable as the lengthening daylight, we know that our guests will be headed north to Boothbay Harbor and Spruce Point soon and enjoying a nice long summer before heading south again, with the sun by the autumnal equinox in September.
For now, we’re struck with an image one of our favorite authors, Rebecca Solnit, shared in her Field Guide to Getting Lost. It’s that in the backyards of suburbia, you’re more likely to find the tracks of wild animals in the snow, than footprints of children. The point of her book is that you won’t find many adult footprints there either. And that’s a gap that’s easily restored.
That’s where Spruce Point Inn and the promise of spring come in.
Here, right now, you see the tracks of year-round residents (two-legged and four) exploring the woodland trails on the 57 acres of the Point.
You’ll see a scattering of reddish-brown “dust” on the crusts of snow, too. These are spruce seeds shaken from the boughs in the wind and waiting for sunshine and snow melt to give them a foothold on their place in the world.
Come summer, we delight in the footsteps of children and adults on our paths, in our gardens and along the waterline. And the seeds and bulbs we’ve planted, like the spruce dust, flourish as herbs and orchards, day lilies and salad greens. Like the butterflies and hummingbirds, our gardens nourish the souls of young and old – those who realize Rebecca’s earnest wish that we all work at losing ourselves in the moment, every now and then.
If you look closely along the shore during low tide at Spruce Point, you will see the footprints of children. Though they wash away with the returning tide, they’re visible in a way the footprints in our summer forest are not. But they’re there. They return each summer. And we love helping you leave the invisible imprint of being lost in the moment.
Here in March, looking toward May in the spring sunshine, we realize those moments come none too soon!
- The spruce ‘forest primeval’ and the Ghosts of Christmas present
- Festivals of trees, lights and straight on til morning
- Over the Rivers
- A Bird's Eye View on the Season
- Native American Heritage and November’s full moon
- Listening to the Trees
- All Things Pumpkin
- Head North: there’s still time
- Into the Maine September woods
- Coming around to apples