Spring: a chlorophyll revolution – Gettysburg Connection

I think calling spring an incorrigible flirtation is really no exaggeration. At every turn, this jezebel is capable of all kinds of seduction, and her insanity constantly distracts my attention from everything that isn’t me. American anthropologist Anna Sting describes this experience as “looking around rather than ahead.”

I think spring is clearly more verb than noun, more pushing than pulling, higher than low, less empty than full, and greener than brown. As the earth begins to heat up, I feel that the cyclical nature of spring comes not from the periphery but from its core, and without fail, the final spin of winter stops and releases a palette of verdant hues and flexible. Like recovering from a nagging winter cold, spring is an open invitation to lean into it all and dismiss mental chatter.

In the spring, I see the conditions happening all at once, bud by bud and leaf by leaf. Iterative models unfold with biological precision and defy explanation.

In Confessions, 11:21, Saint Augustine asks: “In what space then do we measure the passing time? My mind is no longer a closed space for reflection but an enlarged field, real and imagined. I believe that life on earth is governed less by time than by its climate. Weather conditions influence every particle in its path, and to be under the spell of spring is to succumb, surrender, release and awaken your senses. It is the remarkable swelling of spring that “spreads” outward to greet the sun.

Imagine how it is that this energetic conspiracy of the bright sky and the green earth of God is winning the winter again and again, year after year. I see it running through the motions of a stream as shape-changing vortices whirl in a seasonal dance.

As I walked, I took the plunge to ditch my smartphone (at least for a little while) to build my resilience to Nature Deficit Disorder (NDD). By engaging all my senses in the chlorophillic spring revolution, I stand in solidarity against synthetic fakes and “deep fakes”. Lifting your eyes, looking around, listening carefully and breathing deeply is to be nourished. These are the metrics that I can’t separate from my life. One of the gifts of nature is our ability to see, feel and hear poetry at every moment.

Nature is simply a doorknob for anyone who wants to enter.

Originally from Maine, Marc Jalbert is known locally as the former owner / baker of Gettysburg Baking Co. and Pomona’s Cafe. His short essays appeared in the Gettysburg Times under the title “The Baker’s Table”. He now bakes bread weekly for The Natural Food Co., Gettysburg, teaches a Covid-compliant one-to-one bread class, and provides sourdough bread for The Mansion House (formerly the Fairfield Inn). Marc lives in Upper Adams County with his wife, Juli, where he enjoys “building things” and playing his guitar.


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