It is the first day of Spring and in our family chat, my daughter in Istanbul starts off with a happy spring greeting. My sister-in-law shares that “it is a beautiful day in Edinburgh.” Followed by an announcement from my other daughter who is landing in Lisbon that “there was a typhoon at 8 p.m. last night — lots of trees down.” The sun is rising in a clear, blue sky here in Middlebury with windy conditions expected by 9 a.m.

The tussle between winter and spring begins. While summer fades into autumn, spring claws its way out of winter. Like a tug of war with a rope, spring wins. When the earth thaws, when what was dormant awakes, there is a fierce urgency to grow. The sap begins to run; the sugaring season has begun. Until the Maples bud; we taste the sweetness on our tongue.

One doesn’t sugar alone; it is teamwork. The sap is collected, the fire is lit under the sugaring pan, the bubbling sap must be watched around the clock, the syrup is drawn off. This continues for weeks. The season begins with excitement and ends with exhaustion. Like the tug of war, there is usually a winner. And in this drama, it is spring. With so much in flux around us, we are assured that nature will go about its business with no attention to any other drama. We can count on that process. Trees cannot be fired. Of course, they can be vulnerable to the saw, to disease, lightening, wind, and insects. But it takes a lot to destroy a solid Maple.

We believe in Maples. We believe in weather, in cycles, in seasons. We know there are disasters. There are lots of trees down in Lisbon. There are whole neighborhoods turned to ash in Los Angeles. In a natural disaster, our instincts call us to respond, to come together. Wallace Stevens wrote “as if we were all seated together again, and one of us spoke, and all of us believed what we heard, and the light, though little, was enough.”

In this bleak time, we gather together. We listen to one another’s stories. We respond with kindness and generosity. The destruction of the foundation upon which our country is built is not a natural disaster. It is the outcome of greed, sugared down in the hands of the powerful few. But, in this tug of war, the multitude on the other end is gaining strength. Gathering to protest in public. Gathering to plan in community rooms, in small groups around tables. Speaking, listening, indivisible. To resist. To move on.

Taking a tip from nature. Winter has us in its icy grip. The darkness is deep. But at first light on this new day, we take up our end of the rope — the kleptocrats on the other end — and we pull together. We believe, we must believe, we must convince each other, that spring will win.

Johanna Nichols

Middlebury