Ah, the Madness of Spring - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Monday, March 27, 2023

Dr. Ed Iannuccilli, Columnist

 

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Dr. Ed Iannuccilli, columnist

Something refreshing and wholesome surfaces as soon as I stumble upon the first day of spring. All of a sudden, it’s there. My mind gets muddled with thoughts of my garden. Muddled like cluttered and bordering on anxious because I am eager to get started, wanting to do too much too soon as a touch of frustration sets in; wanting to buy everything to plant even though it is still too cold. “Wait until Memorial Day,” say the old-timers. How could I do that?

Because we’ve moved to a new home, I have more concerns; I have to start a new garden plot as one never existed; I have to contend with a herd (aka a rangale) of deer that parades nonchalantly around the property; I have a huge mayoral woodchuck standing high on his hind legs, watching, anticipating, savoring.

This year will be different because I will not be working in a mature garden, no longer have soil so rich that I could crumble it in one hand, and no longer enjoy the coarse smell of cultivated earth. I sampled the soil this weekend, and it was nowhere near ready as it was firm, loaded with Rhody rocks, and difficult to excavate. I need to turn over stony soil and enrich it so that it will welcome my plantings.

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Oh, and here is that vernal (Latin vernālis, about spring) equinox (Latin equi, equal, nox, night) again. Every year, I have to familiarize myself with just what that harbinger means. So here goes. At the vernal equinox in the northern hemisphere, the earth is tilted on its axis. As it travels around the sun, each pole is sometimes tilted toward the sun and sometimes tilted away. The tilt initiates the seasons and is responsible for the shortening and lengthening of daylight hours. On the day of the vernal equinox, the North and South Poles are equally distant from the sun, so there will be almost the same amount of daytime as nighttime. I like it.

I vow never to forget it. After all, it does mean spring. But other things mean spring to me.

It is the time of the college spring break (remember “Where the Boys Are?”), the Masters Golf Tournament, baseball, (“Let’s play two!”), golf courses opening, flowers peeking, shrubs shooting, animals awakening, cardinals, doves, and red-winged blackbirds making their appearance, and robins checking my soil. With a hovering snap of their wings, off they go.

OK, I’m ready. I decided to use raised beds and bought cages to fend off the hunters. There is nothing in the beds, but I wanted to give the predators warning, “It’s mine, and you’ll have to work to make it yours.” I felt like Captain Queeg in “The Caine Mutiny.”

Jest a tetch of spring fever getting to me I guess. But I have the answer. Get stuff planted to ease my impatient mind.

Emily Dickinson wrote:

“A little Madness in the Spring / Is wholesome even for the King.”

I love this touch of madness. Bring on the buds.

Dr. Ed Iannuccilli is the author of three popular memoirs, “Growing up Italian; Grandfather’s Fig Tree and Other Stories”, “What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner” and “My Story Continues: From Neighborhood to Junior High.”  NOW, he has written his fourth book "A Whole Bunch of 500 Word Stories."

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