On the first day of Spring, I opened the blinds to welcome the rays of sunlight that eagerly wanted to be allowed in. I showed you, my little one, a sweet video from your school teacher as she sang a song of hope and peace, strumming on her guitar from her treehouse. I ground freshly roasted coffee beans and prepared a pot. We gathered around to read God’s Word and be reminded of the greatest Story ever told, the real Story. It strengthened our souls for the day.
On the first day of Spring, our days looked very different than we ever expected. Your days were spent at school from Monday to Thursday, with a home study day on Fridays. I had just started working a part time job at a flower farm. With two and a half months left, we were almost through the school year, anticipating a major move across the state.
On the first day of Spring, our world had succumbed to a global pandemic as an invisible enemy, a deadly virus, swept swiftly across the world, infecting hundreds of thousands of people and killing over 10,000. All major league sports shut down first, then came the schools. Restaurants, cafes, and large retailers closed their stores. Daily, we were waiting and watching expectantly for the next set of recommendations from the government to slow the spread of the virus, to self-isolate in our homes, and stock up on food and supplies.
On the first day of Spring, we went outside to bask in the sunshine, to climb a tree, to talk to a neighbor, while making sure we stayed six feet away. The weather was warmer, and our windows were wide open. We needed to expand our living space. Looking out into the woods behind our house, I longed for you kids to run, climb, and explore in nature. I grabbed my garden clippers and called to you children to follow. I pulled up one of the many tree stumps from the trees our landlords had cut down last Fall. I picked up a smaller tree stump and precariously heaved it over the chain fence, intending to upend it as a stepping stool when I wanted to climb back over. As I stepped up onto the stump, I wondered how I’d get my 42 year old self over this chain fence and land safely on the other side.
On the first day of Spring, I was determined. I went for it and got myself up onto that fence and over with almost as much class and agility as I had when I was a teenager. I was determined. You kids followed, one with excitement, one with curiosity, one with much uncertainty, and one of you stayed in the hammock, safe and sound. I started clipping away at thorn branches, and overgrown wilderness, clearing a neat and tidy pathway into our new wilderness. If we were to self-isolate, we needed a magical place to escape to, to feel normal in, to imagine, wonder, and create.
On the first day of Spring, I prepared a clearing, surrounded by ferns, fallen trees to climb, coniferous trees, a moss-covered stone and a scattered assortment of large white feathers by an unknown bird. I named our paradise, The Castle of Timberwood! It is a magical place of pure delight and natural beauty. And when the sun sets in the west, it weaves its rays of light through the trees and the ferns to wave farewell to the close of the day, clinging to the hope that there will be a tomorrow.
It was the first day of Spring.
Maple Ridge, British Columbia, Canada, March 2020
“When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things…”
(Wendell Berry, The Peace of Wild Things, New Collected Poems, 79)
Cliff Falls, Maple Ridge, British Columbia, Canada, March 2020