Spring Peepers, Daffodils, and a Total Solar Eclipse
This spring, North10VT has been alive with signs of renewal and reminders of nature’s resilience. Each evening, as the daylight fades, the spring peepers rise in chorus, their persistent songs filling the night air until dawn. There’s a strength in their rhythm, a tireless reminder of the continuity in nature. And with the return of frogs singing through the dark, it feels like a warm invitation to welcome the season of growth.
Daffodils covered in dewdrops, welcoming spring.
Amidst the browns and faded greens of early spring, daffodils have pushed through, bringing splashes of vibrant yellow to the landscape. Their blooms are a joyful sight against the backdrop of winter’s lingering chill. In true Vermont fashion, our weather has swung wildly between winter and spring, delivering more snow in a single April storm than we saw all winter. Though snow in March or April is hardly unusual here, it was remarkable to witness this season’s heaviest snowfall just as the land seemed ready to wake up. Winter and spring appeared to wrestle back and forth, with rain-soaked mud giving way to fields of fresh green grass and buds on the fruit trees—each bow to winter a reminder of spring’s inevitable triumph.
April 4, 2024. Birds at the bird feeder on a cherry tree. Cardinals love black oil sunflower seeds.
Just days before the eclipse, 12 inches of fresh snow blanketed the ground. But as if nature herself planned it, the gray skies parted, gifting us with a warm, dry, relatively clear day to witness a total solar eclipse. It was my first time experiencing totality, and reflecting on it now, I feel profoundly grateful to have shared that beautiful day with family, right here in our backyard. The entire experience was nothing short of magical. After so many cloudy days, seeing the sky clear for something so rare and powerful was unforgettable. I can understand why some people dedicate their lives to chasing eclipses around the world. This moment held a depth and mystery that I’d never encountered before.
Using eclipse glasses to view the sun during the total eclipse on April 8, 2024.
During totality, the stillness was almost surreal. The usual bird songs fell silent, except for our roosters, who crowed back and forth, perhaps equally curious. Our goats seemed unfazed, content at their hay feeder, and the dogs remained focused on digging. Yet, everything felt different, as though the earth itself paused in reverence.
The photos and videos don’t quite capture what we saw. Against the sun’s brightness, the moon became a stark black disc, ringed by layers of color, like a diamond halo against the opaque blackness. Days later, while talking with my eye doctor, it struck me that this looked like a giant, celestial eye—a perfect black pupil against the sun’s fiery iris. It was a sight unlike any other, a moment where night and day merged in a 360-degree panorama, making it easy to understand why ancient cultures built temples to honor such mysteries.
Much love for the sun and the moon.
When was the last time you felt a sense of awe and wonder? For me, before this, it was a few years ago while visiting Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s masterpiece in Barcelona. That cathedral is a transformative space, a breathtaking blend of art, architecture, math, science, and nature. If you ever have the chance to experience it, it’s worth every step through its magnificent doors.
