Now is the month of Maying

Spring is now in full swing. Kestrals and kingbirds swoop and soar above the meadow. The woods are awash in wildflowers, and the grass in my yard is full of violets and dandelions. The apple trees outside my window host furtive warblers and flashing orioles. The blooms of bloodroot have already come and gone, to be replaced by trillium and columbine and wild geraniums as the season advances. Marsh marigolds quiver like yolks in the swampland, and in deep secret places the tips of yellow lady-slippers have emerged from the fens and will grace the next few weeks in golden glory.I watch the maples bloom and the pines and cedars streaming clouds of pollen. I remember that even a brief walk in the grass is an invitation to ticks. I see amphibian egg masses in forest pools releasing tadpoles, and chimney swifts above the rooftops in the evening light. The heat is off and the windows open, even though nights are chill and skies are gray. Each day is the advent of new delights in the natural world and in my own gardens. I always have to restrain myself from prematurely planting my tender annuals until the risk of frost is past. The earth looks so receptive and my desire is so strong, but except for peas and spinach my garden remains unsown. There will be time, and soon, for my hot weather plants to find their places in the soil, but not just yet.So I imagine spading the earth, working in compost provided from a neighbor’s dairy herd. I think about the seeds my children and I will press into the soil, laying out hopeful rows for bright, growing things. I think about where to transplant tomatoes in hope that the late blight doesn’t return, and dream of salsa and gazpacho and heavy fruit on the vine. Anything is possible before you begin. That is all still weeks away, of course. We can get killing frosts in late May. But the propagative urge is strong in spring, and it overrides the hard fact that harvests fail. If I were a Morris dancer, I would strap on my bells and clack sticks to herald the month of May. If I had a few more voices for harmony I would sing and chant madrigals. My heart skips and my soul chimes at the greening of the world. Tim Abbott is program director of Housatonic Valley Association’s Litchfield Hills Greenprint. His blog is at greensleeves.typepad.com.

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Club baseball at Fuessenich Park

Travel league baseball came to Torrington Thursday, June 26, when the Berkshire Bears Select Team played the Connecticut Moose 18U squad. The Moose won 6-4 in a back-and-forth game. Two players on the Bears play varsity ball at Housatonic Valley Regional High School: shortstop Anthony Foley and first baseman Wes Allyn. Foley went 1-for-3 at bat with an RBI in the game at Fuessenich Park.

 

  Anthony Foley, rising senior at Housatonic Valley Regional High School, went 1-for-3 at bat for the Bears June 26.Photo by Riley Klein 

 
Siglio Press: Uncommon books at the intersection of art and literature

Uncommon books at the intersection of art and literature.

Richard Kraft

Siglio Press is a small, independent publishing house based in Egremont, Massachusetts, known for producing “uncommon books at the intersection of art and literature.” Founded and run by editor and publisher Lisa Pearson, Siglio has, since 2008, designed books that challenge conventions of both form and content.

A visit to Pearson’s airy studio suggests uncommon work, to be sure. Each of four very large tables were covered with what looked to be thousands of miniature squares of inkjet-printed, kaleidoscopically colored pieces of paper. Another table was covered with dozens of book/illustration-size, abstracted images of deer, made up of colored dots. For the enchanted and the mystified, Pearson kindly explained that these pieces were to be collaged together as artworks by the artist Richard Kraft (a frequent contributor to the Siglio Press and Pearson’s husband). The works would be accompanied by writings by two poets, Elizabeth Zuba and Monica Torre, in an as-yet-to-be-named book, inspired by a found copy of a worn French children’s book from the 1930s called “Robin de Bois” (Robin Hood).

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Cycling season: A roundup of our region’s rentals and where to ride them

Cyclists head south on the rail trail from Copake Falls.

Alec Linden

After a shaky start, summer has well and truly descended upon the Litchfield, Berkshire and Taconic hills, and there is no better way to get out and enjoy long-awaited good weather than on two wheels. Below, find a brief guide for those who feel the pull of the rail trail, but have yet to purchase their own ten-speed. Temporary rides are available in the tri-corner region, and their purveyors are eager to get residents of all ages, abilities and inclinations out into the open road (or bike path).

For those lucky enough to already possess their own bike, perhaps the routes described will inspire a new way to spend a Sunday afternoon. For more, visit lakevillejournal.com/tag/bike-route to check out two ride-guides from local cyclists that will appeal to enthusiasts of many levels looking for a varied trip through the region’s stunning summer scenery.

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