Living in the forest in late March and early April is a quiet time and one that I enjoy and look forward to every year. For a few weeks, if I am lucky, there is this lull that seems to take hold, if only briefly.
Winter is over, the big parka put away for another year. Being outside is easier again. The snow cover is gone, and even though I only had a few inches of it this year, a few inches is all that’s needed to make foot travel a bit complicated.
Spring is not yet here. At least, the full blown part of spring isn’t here yet. The majority of the migrating birds have not yet arrived. New growth hasn’t started yet. In fact, the nights are still fairly deep into the 20’s, though the days tend more and more towards 50F.
In the mornings, I hear a few robins sing, but the loud dawn "Hallelujah" chorus with many species is still weeks away. In this particular spring, rain hasn’t yet added its notes to the quiet around me. The winds of winter that made even a normal winter temperature feel frigid have calmed.
This morning the forest is still, the birds quiet. It’s like the forest is at that point between the inhale and the exhale of breath. Even the crows are quiet. They are not still, and move from perch to ground and back again. Watchful and alert but waiting, perhaps, for something else to make the first sound.