“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”
― Rachel Carson, Silent Spring
Ever since moving to the Chicago area, I have NOT been a fan of spring. Spring in the midwest is full of mud and rain and snow, and nothing outside is very enjoyable until about mid June.
One thing I do look forward to each year is the return of the birds. Every winter the majority of our birds migrate to warmer climates, leaving the winter landscape devoid of their sounds. March begins the return, and they are the often the first sign that spring is coming. Even though the trees are still barren and insects are absent, the birds always return. Before the air warms, before the trees bud, before the cicadas sing, and even before the snow has melted, the birds come. Vs of geese flock overhead and the sound of the sandhill cranes fill the sky as the migrate back to their summer homes. Seeing species from all over the continent, many that you can only glimpse during migration, brings anticipation and joy for what the coming months will bring. It’s hard to imagine a world where spring did not return; a Silent Spring.
Rachel Carson imagined just that.
In 1962 Carson released a book chronicling the devastating effect human beings were having on nature. She warned that indiscriminate use of pesticides was detrimental to the natural world, in particular to the birds. Her book Silent Spring brought about the ban of DDT, and started an environmental movement that saw the birth of Earth Day and the EPA. The title alludes to a world that never awakens from its winter sleep; a spring without birdsong.
In recent weeks we have been experiencing a silent spring of a different beast. The skies are quiet as airplanes are grounded. Concert venues and sports stadiums are empty. Schools are missing their children’s laughter and chatter. Parks and playgrounds sit empty, and city streets are lifeless. Empty gyms … empty highways … “empty chairs at empty tables,” to borrow a line from Les Miserables.
And yet the birds returned. The woodpeckers chip away at the trees. The robins dig for worms in the muddy grass. The chickadees and wrens search for the perfect nesting sites. And their songs fill the air. The sounds remind me that the world continues. Life is moving forward even as we are feeling stagnant. Nature will endure and be there for us when we return. I hope we can appreciate it even more than ever when we do.
StigMama 