This is Mud Season in the Adirondacks*- two months ago we were in leg+ deep snow, now those same snowy forests are full of the susurrus of Spring breezes, the gurgles of graveled brooks, the mating calls of myriad birds, and a general “oomph” of good feelings all around, even as the poorly-laced shoes are sucked off our feet. Shame on us if that happens, btw, but we’re being honest here.
Spring is rebirth, but I am a big fan and booster for the season just past, even though it is often equated with drear and dying. If the Lion King taught me anything, it is that life is a circle. Living flows into ending flows into fresh beginnings. Maybe you’ve experienced this in your own ADK adventures? For much of my life, this litany was quite different: when winter faded away you found that along with all you were gaining, some stuff is just gone from reach forever. I don’t mean to be a bummer here. This is about the title above.
When riding along through the woods with my dad Charlie, nestled in with all the plans for camping and recreating and spring-timing, he would frequently and unconsciously slip into what a lady friend came to call The Litany Of Death: which of his old friends had gone on ahead during the cold months. I was a young boy. Dad was 38 when I was born: his litany was just the way things were. As a college student I was always concerned about the Litany’s effect on dates of mine who were riding along with us (a bit of a mood-killer…) Later as a man and then a father myself, I came to read a certain joy into the Litany. My father’s recounting of surprise heart attacks and divorces and all, blended in with his hunting and fishing conquest stories for the places we drove past, (a REAL buzz killer for dates!) became not a catalog of carnage, but a celebration of change and growth and circularity.
We started this thought in April. It is August as I post, 90F and humid. A little season of change is just past, as my son and daughter have returned to college. By no means a muddy season, my head now is still a bit gloopy and a mess like my springtime boots, like my father’s tales, like every season just passing, no matter how clement. We paddled and camped, traveled and mourned, grew older with each other and hopefully better. I spent more time outside than in, and as the season of galaxies and changing leaves and clearing air sweeps in we can enjoy it for what it is, even knowing that it will pass. We’ll see it again.
Ed
*I LOVE mud season because you just never know. I lost this blog in mid-flow months ago to a ransomware attack just as I was sharing ephemeradk for the first time. My security is much better now, and the college mate who always helped me with such things passed away. No connection other than in season. The Litany of Life rolls on.
