There comes a day that follows snow storms and cold spells, when the sun shines a little longer and the air is warmer and somehow, more promising.
Robins bob on the lawn and, in those sugar bushes where the trees are tapped, sap begins its annual run from the maple trees into buckets, where it's collected by the barrel and boiled down into maple syrup.
The progression of spring is not measured so much by the calendar, but by the landscape, such as when the ice leaves the lakes, when warm days melt the snowpack and feed the waterfalls and, best of all, when the first peepers serenade the first warm night of the season.
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